


Game

by lildemonlili



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: 50 ways Lili can give her ult shit, Also known as, F/F, baseball AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-05 07:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18361259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lildemonlili/pseuds/lildemonlili
Summary: It's finally Jeongyeon's year. She's finally the starting pitcher and she's got this. At least she thinks she does. But the opposing team's head cheerleader, Im Nayeon has different plans.





	1. Strike Zone

**Author's Note:**

> It's been in the works for a while this one, thank you so much for waiting.

The scent of floral scented shampoo mixes with the hot fumes and undeniable smell of sweat, as Sana steps into the locker room, busy undoing the ponytail. Somin and Tzuyu look around at her as she walks past, but Sana doesn’t initiate a conversation. They aren’t her target today. The girl on the bench in the middle of the room, staring at her locker is. On her left, Dahyun and Joy seem deep in conversation. Something about an experiment they have to go log book for.

“You practicing how to sleep with your eyes open?” Sana asks, kicking Nayeon’s leg gently.

Nayeon jolts. Looks up at Sana with a wildness and confusion in her eyes that makes Sana shake her head and crouch down in front of her.

“You did well.” Sana says reassuringly, putting a hand on Nayeon’s thigh. “It was a good practice.” 

Nayeon shakes her head and closes her eyes. “I thought I was ready for this, but who are we even kidding here. I can’t fill her shoes. There’s just no way.”

“Oh, shut up.” Sana clicks her tongue. Speaks maybe a little too loud, as she feels several pairs of eyes on her. Notices that Dahyun and Joy have stopped talking behind her. But a little pause is everything it takes for conversation to pick back up and leave Sana and Nayeon to speak freely. “No, you’re not Luna, but that doesn’t mean you’re not amazing.”

“It should’ve been you.” Nayeon sighs, leaning forwards and burying her head in her hands.

“No it shouldn’t.” Sana insists. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this particular discussion. Not even the tenth.

“You’re better than me. You’re a better dancer and stronger too.” Nayeon mumbles, head still in her hands. Then she looks up, a cringe on her face. “But it’s not just that. You’re bubbly and outgoing and you always make the mood so good. I’m just-”

“A leader. You lead us.” Sana interrupts. “You’ve always been the leader, even just between you and me. You’re our head cheerleader because you’re the best one for the job. We all voted on it.”

“And I voted you.” Nayeon insists.

“As the only one.  _ Everyone  _ else voted for you, Unnie.” Sana gets to her feet, holding out a hand for Nayeon. “Because you’re the one we want to lead us. So you just have to suck it up and stop whining.”

“I can just quit.” Nayeon argues, taking Sana’s hand, letting the younger girl pull her up.

“Good luck with that.” Sana says sarcastically, dragging her best friend to their lockers. She opens her own and pulls out the gym bag. Pulls the shirt over her head, folding it and placing in the used clothes compartment.

“Do you think I can do it, Sana-ya? Honestly?” Nayeon asks, her voice almost deafened by the loud chitter-chatter of the locker room and the sound of showers.

“Of course I think you can do it.” Sana tuts, pushing down the black lycra shorts. Places them with the shirt.

Nayeon finally starts undressing as well. “I guess I’ll just have to fake it until I make it.”

“That’s the spirit. You’re good at faking anyways.” Sana says with a grin, grabbing the towel from her bag.

“Shut.” Nayeon glowers at Sana.

“I didn’t mean-”

“I know. I’m just touchy today.” Nayeon says. “Now go shower, I really prefer not to talk about this stuff with you when you’re naked.”

“Suit yourself.” Sana shrugs, sending Nayeon a last grin before walking away, towards the showers. Takes the one next to Chungha.

“Is she okay?” Chungha asks quietly.

“Yeah, hundred percent. Just her roommate keeping her up last night.” Sana lies as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She knows when to lie for Nayeon.

She’ll make it. Sana knows she will.

 

…

Momo complains loudly. Jeongyeon gives in and hands over the bowl of popcorn, earning her a giggle from Mina and an exasperated sigh from Jihyo.

“What?” Jeongyeon asks sharply, her body still running on the last adrenaline fumes. 

“I’m not saying anything.” Jihyo throws her hands up and Chaeyoung turns up the volume of the movie.

“Clearly you are.” Jeongyeon pushes. It’s all good fun, but there’s also a part of Jeongyeon that knows this is the adrenaline talking. That she wants to prolong the high by bickering with Jihyo.

Except Jihyo doesn’t let her. The younger girl just looks around at Jeongyeon and sends her a warning gaze.

 

They’re sitting mushed together on the floor and in the bed of Mina and Momo’s dorm room. They just had the last practice before the start of the season and Jihyo had suggested they do something as a team that night. Of course there were always a few who opted out for reasons like homework and other plans, but eight of them were still sitting in the little dorm room, Mina, Momo, Jeongyeon, Seulgi and Arin in the bed, Jihyo, Irene, and Chaeyoung on pillows the floor in front of the bed. 

“You nervous?” Mina asks, directed at Arin.

The younger girl shrugs. She’s the newest member of the team, taking over Jeongyeon’s place as relief pitcher while Jeongyeon herself was moved up as a starting pitcher with Bona. It’s a big responsibility, but she’s excited to try. Honestly, she’s been training most of her life for this, so there’s no reason she shouldn’t be able to do it.

“You’re going to do great.” Jihyo promises. “I mean, we all saw that last sinker, you’ve got some real talent, kid.”

“It’s true.” Jeongyeon nods.

“Thank you, unnie…” Arin smiles shyly. 

Jeongyeon knows it means the most to the younger girl that it’s Jeongyeon who praises her. Because Jeongyeon and Bona are  _ her _ seniors. Just like Mina, Sejeong, and Irene are Chaeyoung’s. She’s new on the team too, but not a new face. She’s been a friend of most of them even before joining, being Jihyo and Jeongyeon’s junior in high school too as well as here. So when she announced that she would be attending Hanyang, they immediately made her try out for the team. Especially seeing as their old short-stop, Hyerim, had graduated just as Chaeyoung entered.

“I swear to god if she chooses to be with that guy after this I’m gonna quit.” Jihyo comments on the movie as it moves into a new scene.

“Of course she will, it’s a straight movie.” Mina clicks her tongue, tugging ever so gently at Momo’s sweatpants. The older of the two reacts immediately, leaning on her girlfriend. Mina grins stupidly down at her.  _ Smitten fools _ , Jeongyeon thinks, returning to the movie. Not that it was any better to watch some girl make the worst decision of her life by devoting it to being some cold bastard’s personal cheerleader and warm his icy heart. When had that ever worked anyways?

 

The movie ends as Jeongyeon had predicted and the party slowly breaks up on Jihyo’s orders.

“Remember, on time is late.” Jihyo says as she drags Jeongyeon with her out of Mina and Momo’s room. They all promise to be in good time, and Jihyo sends them a thumbs up. Then she walks towards hers and Jeongyeon’s room. It’s a floor down and along a different wing.

“That movie was so bad, why did we even watch it?” Jihyo asks with a cringe.

“To remind us that we have to do better for baseball than that shitshow does for the movie industry?” Jeongyeon asks dryly.

Jihyo laughs and nods. “You’re absolutely right, Yoo.”

 

They talk about the plot all the way to their room, but as soon as they unlink their arms inside the room, the mood changes.

“Are you worried?” Jihyo asks halfway through stretching.

“No.” Jeongyeon shakes her head.

“No?” Jihyo asks.

“Nope. I thought I would be but I have all the butterflies and none of the nausea. I’m just fucki- sorry,  _ way too _ excited. And honestly, Hankuk might be the rival team, but that doesn’t mean they match up to us. We can definitely take them. Three of them have a hard time with sliders and they’re my speciality.”

“Confident, I love it.” Jihyo grins, laying down on the yoga mat almost constantly lying in front of her bed.

“The fact that you work out before bed, you’re crazy, woman.” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, walking past her into their shared bathroom.

“I gotta keep myself in shape.”

“Can’t you just get a girlfriend to keep you in shape?” Jeongyeon asks, the door open. She turns on the water and washes her face.

“Says you.” Jihyo says, her voice strained. Jeongyeon knows she’s doing crunches now. Knows her routine by heart even if she blankly refuses doing the same.

It’s not that she dislikes working out. Well… yes, it is. But it’s also that Jeongyeon’s way of sports isn’t as much raw strength as it is technique. She’s an artist with the ball and though she may not be the strongest batter, she’s earned her place on the team with her pitches. Was a relief pitcher for two years before finally being moved up to starting pitcher. Not that there was any shame in being a relief pitcher, but they never get as much play time as the starting pitchers. 

 

It’s finally march. Baseball season is open. And this is her year.

 

…

 

The crowd is unbelievably loud. Sure, it’s the first game of the season, but are they really usually this loud? It feels almost like someone let a herd of wildebeest run over on the stands above the locker rooms. 

Jeongyeon adjusts the cap on her head. Runs a hand over the fabric and accepts the confidence and sense of responsibility it demands.

The noise makes it almost impossible to focus on getting into the zone. So instead, Jeongyeon watches as Seulgi and Momo stretch back to back, nudging Mina beside her, the younger girl frozen halfway through tying her shoes.

“You got a little drool, Myoui. Right here.” Jeongyeon teases, gesturing at the edge of Mina’s mouth.

Mina just shakes her head with a smile and crosses her arms in defense. But Jeongyeon doesn’t further the teasing, leaving Mina to her happiness. Instead Jeongyeon walks past Bona, over to Jihyo. Talks to her in a low voice

“I’ll be in the hallway, call me back in when you do the pep talk?”

“Got nerves finally?” Jihyo asks, just as quietly.

“Maybe a little.” Jeongyeon presses her lips together and Jihyo pats her shoulder.

“Get out of here, I got the others. You know all my pep talks anyway.” Jihyo says.

Jeongyeon nods. Finds Bona’s eyes on her and sends her a grin. Bona rolls her eyes but accepts it. They know each other well enough, that Bona just lets her go. 

Jeongyeon slips out of the room. Putts on the custom made pitcher’s mitt. They’re starting defense and Jeongyeon is definitely more nervous today than last night. Even if she slept well, she can’t help it now. There’s just something in the air today. 

Or just something blocking her path in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry.” The voice says, almost like a reflex, and a body draws back from Jeongyeon’s.

Cheerleader. From Konkuk, judging from the uniform. Jeongyeon doesn’t say anything, slightly taken aback by the entire thing. The girl stares at her for a second, then turns around. “Rude.”

“What?” Jeongyeon asks, not really sure she heard right. She said  _ rude  _ right?

“I said your fly is down.” The girl rolls her eyes, nodding down at Jeongyeon’s pants.

Jeongyeon curses under her breath and looks, already pulling her hand out of her mitt. But the fly isn’t down. And now the girl is laughing, her laugh high pitched and annoying. She walks by. Jeongyeon stares after her, noticing immediately that the white bow in her hair has fallen down the slick black hair, threatening to fall out completely. Really, Jeongyeon shouldn’t say anything. Should just let her lose the damn bow. Except there’s something inside her that makes her call out, just to get back at her.

“Nice fashion with the bow, is it a trend?!”

The girl whips around so hard the bow actually falls out. Jeongyeon gives a single snort, her shoulders hunching. The girl’s cheeks pink and she bends to pick up the bow. Glowers back at Jeongyeon. But the next second there’s something in her eyes and her entire expression changes.

She walks back. Comes to a halt in front of Jeongyeon, bow held out in her hand.

“Can you help me put it back in my hair?” The girl asks innocently. Or rather, very obviously aware of the innocence in her voice. 

“Why the fuck would I?” Jeongyeon asks dryly.

“Oh, come on, help a girl out? Please?” The girl makes eyes at Jeongyeon. Purposely lowers her chin a bit so she’s looking at Jeongyeon in a more upwards direction. Cheap ass trick, there’s no way Jeongyeon is falling for it.

“Did that move ever get you anywhere?” Jeongyeon stares.

“Don’t know, is it getting me somewhere now?” The girl asks.

A single touch to Jeongyeon’s arm is all it takes. Jeongyeon jolts and grabs the bow just to get the girl to stop that. Because the touch was like electric shock, and it’s the cause of a rush making Jeongyeon’s heart beat faster.

“Turn around.” Jeongyeon snaps when the girl’s lips split in a triumphant grin, revealing a pair of distinctive front teeth and gums. It’s ridiculously charming and Jeongyeon hates it. But she does as Jeongyeon says, turning her back, patiently waiting.

There’s a tiny clear hair tie in the hair where the bow is supposed to sit, and Jeongyeon lifts the part of the black hair tied with it, setting the bow right. Adjusts it until it looks right and then draws back.

“You done?” The girl asks, the same air of innocence in her voice.

Jeongyeon grumbles for an answer, and the girl turns again. Stands closer now, and then looks down at the mitt in Jeongyeon’s hand.

“First pitcher?”

“N- Yes.” Jeongyeon corrects herself.

The girl looks back up, tilting her head a bit. “I’ll cheer you on then.”

“The fuck you will, you’re from Konkuk.”

“You plan to kiss your mom with that mouth, love?” The girl sniggers. “Or just me?”

Jeongyeon stares. Is this girl for real? Is she actually standing there, shamelessly flirting with a member from the rival school’s team? Oh. Right. She’s from the other school. Which makes this strategy. A very unfair strategy. One that makes Jeongyeon hate that the girl is so pretty. And there’s a split second where Jeongyeon’s eyes did fall to the girl’s lips. But only right when she had said it. And only because they’re quite hard to miss, full and plump with red lipstick that sparkles slightly. A little on the tacky side, but Jeongyeon guesses it’s a part of the cheerleading uniform.

“Nayeon unnie!” Someone calls from the hallway. A sweet but insisting voice. “Nayeon, come  _ on _ !”

“Fuck it.” The girl mumbles under her breath before turning to the girl. “I’ll be there in a sec, just make them stretch!”

“Now who’s the foul mouth?” Jeongyeon blurts before she can stop herself. 

The girl - Nayeon? Doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. She just raises an eyebrow at Jeongyeon and then turns on her heel, the black hair whipping around her face. The bow stays where it’s supposed to.

Jeongyeon watches her walk away. Watches her join her friend, the two putting their heads together before they both look back at Jeongyeon. And Jeongyeon hates them both. And all of Konkuk for that matter. Hates everything about the Nayeon girl from the way her hips move when she walks and that self-absorbed smirk on her face.

 

Jeongyeon watches as the girls turn the corner, to the hallway with the locker rooms for guest teams. And Jeongyeon leans her head against the wall. Clutches the leather mitt in her hands and curses under her breath even though she knows she’s not supposed to curse. Not that Jihyo and her damn cuss jar would be able to prove anything.

Jeongyeon will probably end up putting money in the jar anyway. Just because her conscious won’t f- won’t allow her otherwise.

 

…

 

Sunlight pours onto the stadium and Jeongyeon walks out with the rest of her team, her shoulder bumping against Jihyo’s. Catcher and pitcher. The captain and her right hand. Or left. That’s Jeongyeon’s strength. The reason she got feared last year as a relief pitcher. As a secret weapon.

Their starting defense.

Momo, Seulgi, and Lisa hurry to the outfield as soon as the team has finished their huddle and Jihyo has set them all loose. Jeongyeon bumps elbows with Jihyo before calmly walking onto the pitcher’s mound. She’s not calm at all. But Irene sends her a grin from third base, and it makes it a little better. She was the fiercest voice arguing to make Jeongyeon starting pitcher over Bomi.

Then it happens. 

Someone calls her name. Someone with an annoyingly shrill voice that Jeongyeon wishes she couldn’t place. Naturally, her eyes scurry over the audience and her eyes fall on the lump of green-clad cheerleaders. And just as expected, the girl is there, waving madly at her, a dumb smirk on her face.

One of the girls next to her, tall and stunning, looks at her like she’s about to smack her, and Jeongyeon really wishes she would. Then the girl from before, the leader probably, nudges Nayeon, and she laughs. Then stops.

“Yoo!” Jihyo calls from the catcher’s box, crouching in her gear, face hidden behind the catcher’s helmet.

Jeongyeon shakes her head and takes a deep breath. Takes the ball from the mitt currently in her right hand, and shifts positions to mark that she’s ready. The first batter looks nervous, thankfully. Isn’t used to a lefty pitcher. 

Good.

_ “Go! Go! Yoo Jeongyeon!” _ The shrill voice makes Jeongyeon jump slightly. How does someone with such an annoying voice manage to yell loud enough that it’s audible over the rest of the screaming audience? Jeongyeon curses under her breath. Reminds herself to put another 1000 won into the cuss jar. 

Another deep breath. And this time she pitches. The batter swings. Misses. Jeongyeon’s curveball confused her. Fast right, curved left. Double sliders. That’s her thing.

The words “Strike one” sound like an answered prayer in Jeongyeon’s ears and she catches the ball as it’s thrown back to her. The second pitch is perfectly aimed at the strike zone, but the batter reads it.

The sound of a bat colliding with the leather sounds over the stadium and the white ball goes far into the left outfield. But Momo is chasing it before the bat has even hit the ground. She doesn’t catch it. But a powerful ball straight to Sejeong makes the batter stop at Mina’s plate, and Mina sends a proud smile to her girlfriend on left outfield. Jeongyeon wants to remind them that they have a game to play. That’s until the ball sent from Sejeong almost hits Jeongyeon’s shoulder instead of her catching it. It’s only the reflexes that save her from a bruise and embarrassment.

Jeongyeon switches the mitt for the next batter. She looks young. Confused. And Jeongyeon sends Jihyo a smirk. Gets ready. Raises a leg and inhales until her lungs are so full it almost hurts.

“ _ Come! On! Jeong! Yeon!” _

Jeongyeon throws.

“Ball!”

Jeongyeon misses the strike zone. And not just a little bit. It’s far out.

“You got this, unnie!” Mina calls from first base, and Jeongyeon nods without looking at her. Stares down Jihyo in the catcher’s box instead. Focuses only on her.

 

“Strike!”

 

Jeongyeon feels relief wash over her.

 

The batter hits the next ball, but Lisa catches it in the right outfield, quickly throwing it back to second base. A rush of pride surges through Jeongyeon at her team’s effort. Despite the amount of pressure on a pitcher, she has to remember that there’s a team behind her ready to catch and run. Ready to fight just like she is.

Jeongyeon takes a breath. Looks past the field and finds the crowd of green. Not because she wants to.

 

The girl makes a heart above her head and laughs. The leader whispers something to her and she nods. They both laugh.

 

Konkuk gets a run in the first inning. Hanyang don’t. 1 - 0

 

…

 

The crowd quiets in a moment of awe as the ball flies across the stadium. The only sound is the bat hitting the ground.

Chaeyoung runs. Jeongyeon screams. Then the rest of the stadium do to. Some scream for Konkuk to hurry, but the vast majority scream for Chaeyoung to run. Irene hides her face against Jeongyeon’s shoulder. She can’t look. But it’s safe. It’s good. And Chaeyoung passes first base. Passes second and almost misses a step.

“You got this!  _ Run!! _ ” Jeongyeon’s lungs are about to give in from the strain, and Jihyo is about to break her hand with the force she’s holding Jeongyeon’s with.

Chaeyoung runs. Passes a very panicked short stop as the ball is finally picked up in the outfield.

This is it. The final moment.

The crowd explodes as the score changes to 1-2 for the inning and Chaeyoung collapses somewhere past the left hand batting box, heaving for breath.

She stretches both arms into the air, flat on her back in the dirt. Jeongyeon’s heart fills with pride for their shortstop.

 

They win the game 13-14, thanks to Chaeyoung’s home run.

 

It almost makes it an okay game in Jeongyeon’s mind. But it doesn’t change the fact that she played bad. That she didn’t prove herself to be the star she had promised. Honestly, it was Arin replacing her after the sixth inning that saved the game.

The high of Chaeyoung’s home run evaporates as quickly as it rose. And Jeongyeon hates it. Hates that she can’t show more support and live in the high of Chaeyoung’s victory. 

Jihyo nudges her, as if she read Jeongyeon’s mind.

“We won.” Jihyo says as if that isn’t obvious.

“I’m going to shower.” Jeongyeon answers.

Jihyo nods, even though it’s obvious that she doesn’t approve of Jeongyeon leaving without attending their end-of-game celebration. It’s only because they know each other so well that Jihyo lets her.

 

Jeongyeon doesn’t even make it to the showers. Because halfway down the hallway under the seatings, she sees is a group of green-clad girls chattering ahead, casually walking towards the changing rooms.

Jeongyeon loses it.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Jeongyeon yells.

The girls all jump and Nayeon turns, her eyes wild for a second. Her arm is linked with the leader’s but she quickly signals for the girl to let her go and lead the others away. The girls follow the leader. Nayeon stays behind.

“Good game.” Nayeon says in a provokingly genuine tone.

“Fuck you.” Jeongyeon says.

Nayeon’s expression changes, and she crosses her arms. Tilts her head. “You wish.” 

“Why the hell did you have to yell at me like that?”

“What are you talking about?” Nayeon asks, batting her eyes. 

Jeongyeon wants to hit something. Really wants to hit something. Settles for clenching the mitt with all her strength. Nayeon looks at it and huffs in amusement. Then she turns around and starts walking away. Then she turns her head.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Yoo Jeongyeon.”

 

Really, Jeongyeon has never hated anyone she just met. 

But she hates this girl.

 

…

 

Sana zips the bag, the uniform neatly folded and the wet towel in a plastic bag so it doesn’t make the rest of her stuff damp. Then she turns to the girl next to her, already with her bag over her shoulder, her wet black hair in a bun and the white bow in her hand. 

“So, are you going to tell me what the deal is?” Sana asks, hoisting the bag over her shoulder and letting Nayeon link arms with her.

“With what?” Nayeon asks.

Sana rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue. “That Yoo girl. You into her or something?”

“The pitcher?” Nayeon scrunches her nose. “Fuck no.”

“Language, Nahyung.”

“Don’t call me that.” Nayeon snaps. Glares at Sana.

“Don’t swear.” Sana says dryly. Nayeon’s threatening eyes doesn’t affect Sana the slightest.

“Whatever. But no, I’m not into her.” Nayeon starts walking towards the door, Sana trailing after. They don’t have to be on the bus back to the dorms for another ten minutes, but as the leader, it’s Nayeon’s job to make sure everyone is on the bus, so she has to be the first one there. Counting the chickens, Sana calls it.

“Then why did you go out of your way like that?” Sana asks.

“Okay, well, I saw her in the hallway before the game, right?” Nayeon starts.

“Yeah, you were flirting with her.”

“Not seriously. I noticed she was nervous and flustered easily, and I asked if she was starting pitcher. She almost said no, but then yes, so I figured this must be her first day pitching first. So I flirted to get her out of her game, you know, get us a win if possible.”

“That’s doesn’t sound like you, playing dirty like that.” Sana says. Watches as Dahyun and Joy walk past them, the youngest turning back to look at Nayeon and Sana. She smiles in a way that makes her eyes crinkle. Sana holds Nayeon’s arm a little closer.

“God, when are you going to do something about her?” Nayeon asks exasperatedly.

Sana hushes her and slows them down. “I’m working on it, okay? It’s not as easy as it seems.”

“Why not, she’s just a dork who’s here to keep her scholarship.” Nayeon frowns, looking at her utterly flustered best friend.

“But that’s one of the things that makes her so amazing. Imagine how smart and dedicated you have to be to learn gymnastics and dance to get a scholarship to one of the best schools in the city? You said it yourself, she’s a dork, a nerd. But she wanted an education and-”

“And you’re rambling again, I know her story.” Nayeon interrupts and Sana bites her lip. She always rambles when it comes to Dahyun. And it’s not that she doesn’t know how annoying it must be to listen to after so long, but Sana can’t help it. She’s completely enamored by the young flyer and has been ever since her audition.

 

Kim Dahyun is well known at the school. Extremely hard to miss. And after the preliminary auditions in January, her story was on everyone’s lips. Nayeon had asked her after the routine why she wanted to become a cheerleader - a must for anyone applying for the prestigious scholarship - and Dahyun had told how she had engaged in gymnastics for this goal and found that she loved it. That she wanted to major in physics and math, and that she couldn’t afford the tuition of any private school.

The honesty had blown away both Sana and Nayeon. But where Nayeon had merely recommended her for the scholarship, Sana had taken further interest in the girl. Much further interest. And now here she was, months later, and she still hadn’t done anything about it. But how does a junior year cheerleader admit to being scared of being rejected by the impossibly goofiest weirdest little freshman on campus? 

But that’s exactly what Sana is.

 

“Sana!” Nayeon’s voice brings her back, and Sana stares at her with a distant expression.

“Huh?”

“You were- no, nevermind, why do I ever bother to mention her, you always do this.”

“Do what?” Sana asks genuinely. They’re almost at the bus, and Dahyun and Joy are already waiting outside it.

“Zone out.” Nayeon rolls her eyes.

“Sorry.” Sana mumbles. Feels the need to retaliate. She hates when Nayeon gets the last word. “But then let’s make a deal. If you move on the Yoo girl, I’ll move on Dahyun.”

“Why would I move on Jeongyeon? I’m not into her. And besides, there’s no way you’d keep your part of that deal.”

Sana knows one of those is true. The other she’s not so sure about.

 

They reach the bus, and Nayeon leans against it, right by the door, ready to count.

Sana doesn’t know where to stand. There’s a space between Nayeon and Dahyun, but she isn’t sure she can take it. Except Dahyun is smiling at her, and it’s really hard not to want to stand close to her. Impossible, in fact. So Sana fills the empty space.

“Hi.” Dahyun says happily.

Sana giggles. “Hi.”

“Whipped bitch.” Nayeon says so quietly that only Sana can hear it.

Sana pushes her, though it doesn’t do much. Instead she reminds herself to keep an eye on the Yoo girl from now on.

 

…

 

“You can’t hide out in our room forever, Jeong… Come on, we’re just going out for dinner. You know, food. You love food.” Jihyo has her hands around Jeongyeon’s arm in an attempt to pull her up from the bed. An attempt that’s annoyingly effective.

“It’ll be more fun without me.” Jeongyeon argues as she’s pulled into a sitting position. She waits for Jihyo to let go so she can flop back down on the bed, but Jihyo seems to have read her, refusing to let go.

“It won’t be a team dinner if you’re not there, now get up, we’re celebrating Chaeyoung and you’re coming. She’s going to be so sad if you’re not there.”

Jeongyeon cringes and groans. They both know Jihyo is right. “Fine.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jihyo says enthusiastically at the pained expression on Jeongyeon’s face. 

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes but follows Jihyo out of the door, grabbing her wallet and keys from the shelf by the door on the way.

“There’s practice tomorrow morning before classes.” Jihyo says as they walk “You-and-me practice.”

“Kinky.” Jeongyeon snorts despite her mood. 

Jihyo sighs.

“What time?” Jeongyeon asks. Jihyo clearly isn’t in the mood for banter.

“I was thinking six.” Jihyo suggests. “If that’s-”

“You’re the captain, captain. If you say six, then it’s six.”

Jihyo grins sheepishly. It’s obvious that she’s still not used to being the captain. Still, making Jihyo feel better makes everything a little better too. Makes Jeongyeon feel like she’s actually doing something right in reassuring and supporting Jihyo. Like it might make up for the horrendous first game.

 

They meet the others at a korean barbeque place just outside of campus. All twelve of them are there for once, Chaeyoung standing in the center, Bona and Seulgi with their arms around the shortstop. She looks more than pleased with herself, but lights up even further when she notices Jeongyeon and Jihyo.

“Unnie!” Chaeyoung calls for Jeongyeon, and Jeongyeon gives her a smile and ruffles her hair. It’s short and soft and thick. She grins in a manner that shows both her dimple and her canines.

Jeongyeon looks around at them, catching Bona’s eyes. She nods. Acknowledgement.

“So you decided to crawl out of your hole, did you?” Momo asks.

“Momo.” Mina says quietly, her voice reprimanding.

“It’s okay, Mina.” Jeongyeon says, turning to Momo. There’s no malice in Momo’s eyes, and they both know she’s just looking out for Chaeyoung here. “Yes, I did. And I’m sorry I screwed up on my part. I really am. But I’m grateful to have an amazing team who can lift when I fail. And I’ll do my best not to fail in the future.”

Jeongyeon sends Jihyo a glance and finds the captain looking at her with pride. She sends an approving nod.

“Let’s give Jeongyeon some space and celebrate what this is all about. a home run for the shortstop in her very first game.” Jihyo says, linking her arm with Jeongyeon’s gesturing for them to enter the restaurant.

 

Jeongyeon forgets about the game as the night progresses.

She just can’t forget about the girl.

 


	2. Slider

“Ball!”

Jeongyeon curses. Looks at the crowd of green and grits her teeth at the grinning girl. How is it possible to hold this amount of hatred towards a girl? Because that’s all she is. She’s just a girl. But every time she calls for Jeongyeon, something jolts inside the pitcher.

_ “Go Jeongyeon!” _

Why is her voice so distinctive? Why is she so annoying? Why does she wear her hair like that, pulled back into a high ponytail that shows the white bow so clearly, and makes her ears show. It’s so...

“Yoo! Head in the game!”

Jihyo’s voice sends Jeongyeon back to reality, and she finds stern eyes behind the grid of the catcher’s helmet.

Okay. Head in the game.

Jeongyeon takes a calming breath. Adjusts the cap on her head and remember the names written on the inside of it. What it means to own this exact cap. Then she raises her leg and leans back. And for a glorious second the world is quiet, and she has eyes only for game.

“Strike one!”

Jeongyeon grins, and the sun appears behind a cloud, warm and wonderful on her skin. Maybe this day, she won’t get under her skin. Maybe today she can be as good as any other game they’ve played so far this season.

It’s their third game against Konkuk, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious to Jeongyeon and everyone around them, that it’s only this one team, Jeongyeon has difficulties with. The rest of the games she plays with little difficulty. Not that they’ve won every game. But she has played as well as anyone could expect of her. Just not here. Not with  _ her _ around.  _ Your achilles _ , Mina says.

Jeongyeon knows they think it’s more than frustration. That they all think she has a crush on Nayeon - that it’s hormones or whatever causing this. But it’s not. She really, truly, despises this girl. Hates that she has the audacity to affect the game like this. And more than once, she’s considered calling a judge on her. She just hasn’t gotten around to it yet.

 

A cloud covers the sun again and the ball flies far into the left outfield. Konkuk score a run. Jeongyeon curses, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. She merely reminds herself to add another 1000 won to the jar in the dorm. 

 

It takes another four minutes to send Konkuk to three outs, and for the inning to change, but at least they don’t get a second run. Not Jeongyeon’s effort though. That can only be attributed to the brilliant work of Seulgi miraculously catching a long ball and sending it straight to Sejeong. How the heck that girl manages to move her body like she is, only she will ever know. And maybe whatever god chiseled her perfect form. But Jeongyeon is grateful nonetheless.

 

With a head-shake, Jeongyeon settles against the wall of the bullpen. She’s second to last to bat, only ahead of Momo. Mina is up first, the petite girl always surprising the opponents with the amount of force she’s able to put into the balls and her precision as she runs bases. Momo says it’s her muscle control that’s out of this world. Jeongyeon just thinks she’s done the undetectable expansion charm on her biceps. 

“You okay?” Momo’s voice is quiet as Mina runs to first base. Arin is nervous but steps from the deck to the batter’s box. Readies herself in front of the catcher.

“I’m good. I just need her to...” Jeongyeon presses her lips together. She isn’t sure what she’s trying to say.

“Maybe just try to accept it instead?”

“Accept what?” Jeongyeon frowns.

“Accept that you have a crush on her, instead of getting so frustrated with her.” Momo suggests. “If you accept it, it might get easier. Remember the practices last season when Mina and I always fumbled around each other because we weren’t being honest with ourselves?”

“Oh, please don’t remind me. That was so painful to watch.” Jeongyeon shudders at the memory. The girls had just become roommates back then, and had tried not to fall for each other in case it got awkward. But the increasing tension between them had eventually gotten Seulgi, Jihyo, and Irene so fed up that they concocted a scheme to get the two on a date the day after their last game of the season. And as far as Jeongyeon knew, Mina’s bed had been unused since that evening.

“Wait,” Jeongyeon returns to the surface. “You’re saying you think I’m actually crushing on Nayeon?”

“Yes.” Momo says dryly.

Jeongyeon snorts. “No way.”

“Okay, come with me for a moment.” Momo says, dragging Jeongyeon backwards away from the natural queue towards the deck.

“Momo, we’re in the middle of a game, this can wait.” Jeongyeon protests, but Momo doesn’t listen. And really, when Momo decides to drag you, there is only one option - and that is to follow her.

“Look at her.” Momo says, moving Jeongyeon in front of herself, both of them peeking out the back of the bullpen, towards the gathering of green uniforms.

Jeongyeon stares at their shoes. White sneakers, all of them. Plain.

“Come on, Jeongyeon. We have to bat soon, just do as I’m telling you.” Momo insists, unusually stern for a girl who’s as soft as jelly most of the time. And Jeongyeon likes to tell herself, that it’s Momo’s unusual character, that makes her search the crowd for her. For Nayeon. 

She’s in the middle, at the back, next to the leader. She’s talking to a girl with sharp eyebrows and an air of unattainability around her. Nayeon smiles at her, and it makes her eyes glint. Then the other girl makes a comment that makes Nayeon laugh and whack the girl’s arm. The girl rolls her eyes. Then Nayeon puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder and mutters something to her, pointing into their squad at two girls at the front, both small, one with a bob and the other with black hair down to her chest. The girl nods and turns to a girl with a heart shaped face and rose colored hair while Nayeon turns to the leader. Seems almost like she’s passing on instruction. The leader nods and beams at her. Then moves forwards until she can tap the shoulder of short girl with the longer hair. Nayeon doesn’t stay back though. Instead she makes an additional note to the girl with the eyebrows and then addresses the tallest girl (stunning beyond compare) and a girl with a sharp look and puffy cheeks. And somewhere in all of it, Jeongyeon realizes. The leader isn’t the leader. Nayeon is. This is Nayeon’s squad.

“Jeongyeon.”

“Huh?” Jeongyeon turns back to reality, turning her head at her roommate.

Momo isn’t even standing next to her anymore. She’s busy cheering Mina on, the younger girl waiting at second base.

“One minute then you’re on deck.” Jihyo says.

Jeongyeon nods, not bothering to pretend she had been paying attention. But Jihyo doesn’t comment. Just holds out an elbow. Jeongyeon softly taps her own against Jihyo’s and watches as Jihyo walks from the bullpen. 

 

Guilt surges through Jeongyeon. She hasn’t been paying attention. Yet she can’t help but steal a final look at Nayeon. It’s just not her eyes she finds. It’s the not-leader’s. She locks Jeongyeon’s gaze. Then nudges Nayeon without breaking eye-contact. Jeongyeon wants to look away. Really should. But she isn’t fast enough, and suddenly it’s Nayeon’s eyes on hers. Locking them. And there’s an almost unrecognizable curiosity and softness in them.

It’s magical; entrancing and hypnotizing, and almost enough to make Jeongyeon approve of her. But then she narrows her eyes and smiles. Gives a little wave and makes a finger heart at Jeongyeon. And Jeongyeon hates her again. 

Really… really hates her.

 

…

 

Sana rubs a hand over her face and pulls the towel from her hair. She looks up at the ceiling for a moment, and allows herself a moment before turning back to the noise and the smell and the frustration of the locker room. 

They lost. Home court.

But what’s worse, is that they failed their last prep. Or… Nayeon. Nayeon failed their last prep. And now there’s an ankle brace around Dahyun’s foot, even though she insists it’s nothing big, and Nayeon is still in the shower.

The others are almost done dressing, most in sweats and with their wet hair in buns. Tzuyu looks worriedly at Sana and then in the direction of the showers, and Sana waves her on her way. They’ll talk tomorrow at practice. Right now is about getting the lockers emptied so she can cheer up Nayeon. This was the last thing they needed, honestly.

“See you tomorrow.” Seungyeon’s voice is low as she passes Sana, and she puts a hand on Sana’s arm. Sana smiles and nods. Looks involuntarily at Dahyun still on the bench. She however, is examining the brace on her foot. Moves her ankle experimentally.

Sana looks back when Seungyeon lingers. She removes her hand when Sana looks at it. Then Seungyeon nods and links her arm with Chungha before leaving the locker room.

It’s not that Sana doesn’t like her. She just doesn’t like her like that. Not that she had taken the moment to actually explain this to Seungyeon. It was just flirtation from the girl, and Sana didn’t really know how to explain, that they would never be anything, simply because Sana was already taken at heart, even if the one who held it had no clue.

“How does it feel?” Sana crouches in front of Dahyun.

“Good, it’s really fine. I just think I landed wrong.” Dahyun assures Sana with a smile.

“Can I take a look?” Sana asks tentatively.

“Sure.” Dahyun looks nervous but sticks out her foot, and Sana takes it carefully between her hands. Moves the ankle in familiar movements. She’s been through this with Nayeon in high school, and she knows the drill. With a slightly racing heart, Sana looks up to take note of Dahyun’s expression as she presses on the underside of the foot.

Dahyun’s wince is tiny but there.

“Put ice on it, but not too cold. Just until the swelling goes down. And then go have it checked out by the nurse okay?” Sana instructs softly.

Dahyun nods and smiles.

The sounds of the locker room seem to quieten for them. But Sana knows it’s just the reality of the room slowly emptying.

“Joy?” Sana looks behind her at the back spot. “Can you take her home?”

“I can walk.” Dahyun says, an almost defiant note in her voice.

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you couldn’t. I just don’t want to risk anything.” Sana lets go of Dahyun’s foot and gets back up. Doesn’t want to admit how much she wishes she could’ve asked Dahyun if she could follow the younger girl home instead of asking Joy to. But there’s still a shower on, and Sana knows Nayeon is hiding until it’s just the two of them left.

“See you tomorrow?” Dahyun’s voice brings Sana back to the scene, and she looks down at the girl, still on the bench but now zipping her bag.

“Of course.” Sana beams. And Dahyun smiles back. Holds out a hand. Sana’s stomach jolts as she pulls the girl to her feet.

Really, considering how many times she’s been close to the shorter girl, she’s really still this affected? Yes, she very clearly is. Because the tightness with which Dahyun holds her hand as she tests how her foot supports her, makes Sana want to blurt out something she really shouldn’t. So instead, she merely hands Dahyun over to Joy. She does, however, allow herself to look after them as they walk away. And she maybe also gets a little (a lot) giddy when Dahyun turns her head in the door to send her a final smile.

 

The butterflies disappear as the door closes, and a pressing silence fills Sana. The shower has been turned off. But there’s no sound of footsteps. So with a shake of the head, Sana grabs Nayeon’s towel and heads towards the showers. Finds the girl leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of her, eyes closed and face turned upwards at the lights in the ceiling.

“So… you plan on putting on some clothes for this or do you plan on having me give you a pep talk while you’re stark naked?” Sana asks, holding out Nayeon’s towel. Nayeon opens her eyes slowly. Looks around at Sana as if in a haze.

“I failed, Sana.”

“Sure, you ruined everything. We can never come back from this, Dahyun will have her foot amputated and you’re going to get kicked off the team.” Sana’s voice drips with sarcasm. She knows that’s where Nayeon’s mind is going. Knows that the only way to cope with it is to make sure she sounds absolutely ridiculous.

“Shut up.” Nayeon sighs. Takes the towel and wraps it around her body. Sana wraps an arm around her wet shoulders and kisses her temple when the older girl leans into her.

“I hate that you can read my mind.” Nayeon huffs.

“It’s my job.” Sana notes dryly as they walk towards the lockers. “And yours is to get your shit together now instead of tomorrow when you come knocking on my door at six in the morning.”

Nayeon mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like a curse, and Sana tuts.

“How’s her foot?” Nayeon asks, her voice low suddenly. She takes off the towel again, drying her body with it while Sana leans against one of the lockers.

“It’s good. There’s a little pain to the achilles when stretched, but I’m not sure it’s sprained. I told her to make sure to cool the swelling and go see the nurse.” Sana explains as Nayeon finishes drying off.

“That’s good.” Nayeon says, digging into her duffel bag for underwear, quickly putting it on. “I feared worse.”

“I know.” Sana shrugs, watching as her best friend went back into the bag for clothes. “So; Jeongyeon. You going to ask her out?”

“Excuse me?” Nayeon asks, covering her now bra-clad front with her sweats as if the mention of Jeongyeon has magically made her present in the room.

“Just saying. You can’t deny it anymore. She was staring at you.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Oh, come on, Nayeon.” Sana says exasperatedly. “She totally has a crush on you. She’s so affected by everything you’re doing to her. I went to see a game last week with my friend because his girlfriend was playing on the opposing team and Jeongyeon was brilliant. But you freak her out just by being there.”

Nayeon puts on her shirt and sticks the front under the hem of her sweatpants. Then she forces all the remaining stuff into the duffel bag with little care, and hoists the strap of the bag over her shoulder.

“She’s not into me.”

“Okay.” Sana gives in, knowing already that the discussion isn’t over. She had mentioned Jeongyeon to get Nayeon out of her head, and it’s working exactly as planned.

“And even if she was, it wouldn’t make any difference. I don’t give a shit about her, she’s rude and … and who stares at some cheerleader during their own game? Come on.” Nayeon rolls her eyes.

Sana remains quiet. Lets Nayeon blow off steam by discussing Jeongyeon with herself in a back-and-forth manner. 

Sana links their arms. Leads them out of the door.

 

They leave the heaviness behind in the locker room.

 

…

 

The soft thump of a ball hitting grass fills the stadium. Jeongyeon closes her eyes. A perfect slider. Wind sweeps over the low cut grass and whirls the top layer of dirt on the field. 

 

It’s the fifth game against Konkuk.

Or… it was. 

 

The stadium is empty now and she’s alone. Jihyo tried for a little, to get her to go home with the rest of the team, but it was no good. And maybe somewhere they both knew that Jeongyeon needed some time alone on the big field.

With a heavy sigh, Jeongyeon opens her eyes and starts walking from the pitcher’s mound towards the ball laying mockingly quiet in the grass. Maybe she should’ve taken Jihyo’s offer and had her stay. It’s always easier to play ball if there’s someone in the other end to catch. But Jihyo isn’t here, and Jeongyeon picks up the white ball. Runs her hand over the red sutures and studies the dirt marks on it for a little before heading back to the pitcher’s mound.

Raising a leg and holding the ball safely between her left hand’s thumb, second and third fingers, she prepares herself. Focuses only on the imaginary square in the air over the batter’s box. The small space of the universe she has to hit in order to get a strike.

The ball flies with the force of Jeongyeon’s throw, through the air, through the strike zone with a precision so delicate it shouldn’t belong to a twenty one year old. But it does. And had she been a boy, then maybe she might’ve even gone places with it. But she’s not, so she knows full well that her career is over when the she graduates.

She’s just trying to make the most of her time now. But it’s almost June and every single game against Konkuk has gone wrong. Especially the past two. Somehow, ever since Momo made her stare at Nayeon during their game three weeks ago, she hasn’t been able to make anything work in her head.

 

White leather hits the grass and the ball rolls until it softly hits the wooden barrier at the edge of the field, settling against it. Jeongyeon presses her lips together. Closes her eyes once more.

It’s time to stop. But she doesn’t know how. If only Jihyo was here. If only Jihyo hadn’t listened to Jeongyeon’s stubborn insistence. If anyone was just here, who could talk some sense into her. Anyone at all.

 

“Need a hand?”

 

Okay, correction. Anyone _except_ _her._

Jeongyeon doesn’t open her eyes, knowing already what she’ll find. She can judge the distance of the words just fine, and knows she’s going to be on the stands, looking down at Jeongyeon.

There’s a moment where Jeongyeon considers keeping her eyes closed. Where she tries to flee without moving. But the silence presses against her eardrums and she knows Nayeon is waiting for an answer.

When Jeongyeon opens her eyes, they find the girl faster than she wants to admit. But she  _ is _ on the stands as Jeongyeon expected, though not in her uniform. Instead she’s leaned against the rails, her black hair hanging down her front, the loose grey t-shirt, round glasses and black sweatpants a complete contrast to the look Jeongyeon is so used to. It’s exactly like her smile; annoyingly, confusingly attractive. And now she’s doing exactly that - smiling. Gums and teeth and twinkling eyes and everything, and Jeongyeon hates her for it.

“Why are you still here?” Jeongyeon asks despite herself. Really, she knows that she ought to just ignore the girl and fetch her ball.

“To watch you?” Nayeon shrugs. There’s a big black duffel bag by her feet, and her entire posture exudes nonchalance.

“No thanks.” Jeongyeon looks at her with indignation. Nayeon is the last thing Jeongyeon needs here to distract her. It’s Nayeon’s fault Jeongyeon is even here in the first place.

“Oh, come on, you can’t hate me that much.” Nayeon leaves the duffel bag behind and moves down the stands, crawling over the wooden barrier. What the hell is she playing at?

“I actually can.” Jeongyeon insists. Watches as Nayeon moves around the net, and towards the ball.

Nayeon doesn’t ask Jeongyeon to elaborate. Instead she picks up the baseball, running her thumb over the red sutures as if befriending it. Jeongyeon watches her wordlessly. Watches as Nayeon throws the ball into the air a few times, catching it in the right hand every time.

“Give it.” Jeongyeon says. Even if Nayeon  _ is _ here, there’s no choice. She has to keep practicing.

“Okay.” Nayeon says without hesitance, and raises her arm.

 

Her throw is absolutely abysmal.

 

Jeongyeon can’t help but snort, trying to swallow her laugh and smile as the ball rolls towards first base.

“What was that supposed to be?” Jeongyeon asks, not really doing a good job at hiding her amusement.

“Shut up, I’m not a fucking baseball player.” Nayeon’s cheeks pink visibly and she crosses her arms defiantly.

“Getting a little hot over there?” Jeongyeon can’t resist, gesturing at her own cheek as she walks over to the ball.

“Hot yes, bothered no. Gotta show me better moves for that.” Nayeon retaliates just as Jeongyeon’s hand closes around the ball.

Jeongyeon stands up straight. Without the ball. Stares in disbelief at the girl. She’s looking at Jeongyeon with that same confident smile that makes Jeongyeon’s mind go blank.

Who even is she?

“You forgot the ball.” Nayeon notes with a head-tilt. Her voice is almost sing-song.

Jeongyeon’s momentary brain-freeze ends, and she scowls. Right. She’s the most annoying girl on the planet, that’s who she is. It’s like it’s just second nature for her to piss Jeongyeon off. It just doesn’t change the fact that she’s right. But it does make it quite a bit more embarrassing for Jeongyeon when she bends down a second time to pick up the ball.

Nayeon is thankfully quiet this time. But she doesn’t leave. Instead she walks down to the catcher’s box, hesitates and then crouches, hands in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Jeongyeon asks, now back on the pitcher’s mound.

“I’ll catch.” Nayeon says as if it’s nothing.

“No way.”

“Oh, come on. I won’t deflate the ball, you have no-one to catch, and I’m here.”

Jeongyeon stares her down. But it also makes a question fly a little faster in the back of Jeongyeon’s head. Why  _ is _ she here? Jeongyeon isn’t sure she wants to know. But still, she doesn’t throw the ball.

“Come on, already.” Nayeon huffs.

“No.” Jeongyeon insists. “I’m going to hurt you.”

“What?” Nayeon looks thoroughly confused.

“Do you not notice how much gear a catcher wears?” Jeongyeon asks in disbelief. “Helmet, mitt, leg guards, chest protector. If I pitch and you catch you’ll get hurt. At the very least you’re gonna get sore hands but I could actually break a finger or possibly hit your face.”

“Oh.” Nayeon’s entire attitude changes. She’s almost timid as she gets to her feet, and Jeongyeon is about to make another comment. But Nayeon simply continues. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

Jeongyeon stares. The change in her manner is anything but predictable, and it confuses Jeongyeon. Because right now, as she moves to the left, far enough away that the zone is free for Jeongyeon, there’s nothing but humility in her eyes and posture. 

She waits. Looks at Jeongyeon as if she’s confused as to why Jeongyeon is just standing there. There’s a part of Jeongyeon wants to ask why Nayeon is here. But she doesn’t. Instead she safetens the ball in her hand and inhales. Raises her leg and visualises the box.

The ball flies through the strike zone, curved and perfect. Just as Jeongyeon is about to go get it, however, Nayeon moves. Walks over to the ball and picks it up.

Jeongyeon watches as the girl looks down at the ball, holding it with all five fingers around it. Then she moves it so her fourth and fifth finger support it from the side instead. And Jeongyeon frowns. Did she take notice of how to hold it properly?

“Like this?” Nayeon raises the ball into the air.

“I- well, you know, not exactly but… yeah, sure.” Jeongyeon isn’t sure what to think anymore. And the urge to ask Nayeon only grows.

“That doesn’t sound like you think it’s right.” Nayeon comments dryly. And instead of throwing the ball, she walks with it until she reaches Jeongyeon. But she doesn’t hand it over. Instead she holds out her hand with the ball. “Show me then.”

“Why?” Jeongyeon’s confusion grows.

“Why not?” Nayeon shrugs. Shakes her hand with the ball impatiently.

“Because you’re a pain in the ass, because you shouldn’t even be here, and because I-” Jeongyeon hesitates. Realizes that the last addition would’ve been a lie, and hates that it would. Despite her best efforts, she doesn’t actually find the idea of spending time with Nayeon to be the most repulsive thing in the world. Not even close.

“Yes?” Nayeon looks at her expectantly. 

“... Fine.” Jeongyeon gives in. Maybe this will give her whatever fix she needs from Jeongyeon to finally leave her be.

Nayeon’s face lights up.

“Okay, first of all, if you hold it like that, you’re gonna miss your target.” Jeongyeon says, taking off her glove and putting it between her knees. Then she grabs Nayeon’s wrist, turning the palm up.

“Most grips only use three fingers, like you did. But you need to make a base with your fourth and fifth finger, not just get them out of the way.” Jeongyeon pushes at Nayeon’s fingers until they sit right.

Nayeon doesn’t say anything. Just lets Jeongyeon move her fingers.

“This grip is for sliders,” Jeongyeon says, “but if you move your fingers apart like this- no, not that much. Like that. That’s a four seam.”

“And what’s the difference?” Nayeon switches back to the slider position. It’s surprisingly precise, and Jeongyeon curses beginners luck for being on Nayeon’s side.

“They angle the ball differently. It doesn’t matter when you’re shit, but it’s just saying there isn’t one right way of holding the ball. Except what you did first, that was horrible.” Jeongyeon says impatiently.

“Wow, you’re really in a good mood, huh?”

“I just lost a game, and it was my fault, how about you cut me some slack?” Jeongyeon bites.

“Fair point.” Nayeon shrugs. 

For a moment Jeongyeon is sure that she’s done now, but really, when has she ever been able to predict the actions of the absolutely impossible girl in front of her?

“So where do I throw this?” Nayeon turns to look at the batter’s box. “I mean, I know, at the batter, but there’s rules, right?”

“Uh,” Jeongyeon looks at the girl’s back as she points the hand with the ball at the batter’s box. “I… Okay, wait, stand here.” 

Jeongyeon takes the mitt from between her knees and moves so she stands slightly to the right of the pitcher’s mound, disregarding the fact that this situation can’t even be real. Reality doesn’t allow for situations ending with Jeongyeon teaching Nayeon - a royal pain of a cheerleader from their rival school - how to pitch a baseball. Nayeon turns her head, and steps back until she’s center on the mound.

“Here?”

“Yes.” Jeongyeon nods, moving to the side, a little in front of Nayeon, and points. “Now, you need to hit the strike zone. It’s an area the width of the home plate there.”

“The white one?”

“Yes. And then vertically making a square from the batter’s knees to their chest.”

“O-kay.” Nayeon nods, clearly not sure exactly what Jeongyeon means.

Jeongyeon bites her lip, narrowing her eyes. She should really tell Nayeon to go away so she could finish practice and get home - it’s late after all. But instead, she instructs Nayeon to stay, and then walks hurriedly down to the batter’s box.

“This line here.” Jeongyeon traces a line parallel to the home plate but across her knee. “Up here.” Jeongyeon traces the sides. “And until here.” Jeongyeon centers her fingers in front of her chest.

“Oh!” Nayeon says excitedly. “Okay!”

And then she throws.

It’s almost as abysmal as the last time, which is lucky for Jeongyeon, as the mitt is still in her hand and not on it. She doesn’t mention this however, too busy trying not to keel over with laughter.

“Shut up! Oh my god, how about you help me instead?!” Nayeon sounds more than just a little mad.

“You’re so bad at this, I don’t think it’d do any difference.” Jeongyeon laughs, her cheeks hurting and her mind spinning slightly.

“Fine.” Nayeon huffs. Walks determinately over to the ball and picks it up. “Here.”

The ball flies through the air with a world of purpose, and hits Jeongyeon’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Jeongyeon winces, as the ball lands by her feet. She takes the mitt in the other hand and rubs her arm. “What the fuck was that for?”

Nayeon doesn’t answer. But her cheeks are pink.

Jeongyeon huffs and lets it slide. Picks up the ball and looks at Nayeon.

“You want to try again?” Jeongyeon isn’t sure why she asks.

Nayeon’s eyes waver for a moment and she shrugs. Her voice is but a mutter when she speaks. “Only if you don’t make fun of me.”

It’s a hard promise to give. But then she nods. “I have another idea though.”

“What?”

“If you really want to stay, then how about I pitch, and you throw it back to me. That way you don’t have to focus on precision and more on actually throwing the ball properly?”

Nayeon purses her lips. Narrows her eyes. Nods and walks off the pitcher’s mound. “Okay.”

“Okay, great. Then you should probably stand somewhere down there.” Jeongyeon says, gesturing at the home plate. Not waiting for Nayeon to do so, however, Jeongyeon steps onto the pitcher’s mound. She might as well throw instead of waiting for Nayeon. 

Yet just as she inhales, ready to pitch, Nayeon speaks, her voice quiet and shaky.

“Thank you.”

Jeongyeon deflates. Lowers her arm and looks at the girl beside her. “For what?”

“You’re not the only one who did bad today.” Nayeon admits “I think I needed this. Unwinding, you know?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not a very good head cheerleader.” Nayeon looks down at the grass, running her foot over it gently. “I’m good at cheering, and I’m the oldest so people see me as the leader naturally. But I don’t lead very well. Sana says I do, but I don’t.”

“I think you do.” Jeongyeon says it before even realizing it.

Nayeon looks up, her eyes flickering between Jeongyeon’s and her mouth slightly open.

“I-I’m just saying. From what I see, they listen and you’re precise. You guide them well. You’re very much like Jihyo is to us. It’s not like you steal the spotlight, you’re just the one who organizes them.”

“I just think I should be more- more peppy? I’m not very good at hiding it if I’m mad or sad. Sana’s never like that, she’s always just in a good mood. She’s better for the team spirit.”

Sana? Oh. The not-leader. 

“Happy doesn’t always make for the best leader. God knows Jihyo - our captain - she can be really strict sometimes. She keeps us in line, and we all know how her mood is. Like if she’s pissed, you know it. But that’s the best thing about her. She’s so real with us, we never have to doubt how she feels. And I’m sure your girls feel the same about you.”

Nayeon presses her lips tight together. Nods and clears her throat. Her cheeks are pinker now than they were before. And before Jeongyeon knows what’s happened, Nayeon grabs the shade of Jeongyeon’s cap to steal it. It’s pure instinct that prevents her from it.

“No fucking way.”

“Oh, come on.” The glint in Nayeon’s eyes is back. But it’s like Jeongyeon can see her intentions so clearly now. She’s compensating. Feels embarrassed and tries to make up for it.

“Not the cap.” Jeongyeon insists.

“What, is it like your special cap or something?” Nayeon asks.

“Yes.” Jeongyeon says, but doesn’t elaborate.

“Then let me try the glove.” Nayeon presses.

Jeongyeon narrows her eyes. What is she playing at? What’s with this mood change? Wasn’t it almost pleasant just now?

“Come on.” Nayeon rolls her eyes and holds out a hand.

Jeongyeon considers it for a moment. Then hands over the mitt and watches expectedly.

“It won’t fit you.”

“Why not?” Nayeon studies the mitt a little and then sticks her right hand into it. Jeongyeon is right. “Oh my god, that’s the most uncomfortable thing.”

“Told you.”

“How can you  _ wear  _ this?” Nayeon complains, her cheeks somehow warmer now as Jeongyeon takes back the mitt and Nayeon sticks her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants.

“It’s custom made. It’s made to fit both my hands and therefore also tightened in a way that my hand just fits. I’d have to adjust the strings a lot to fit it to anyone else.”

“Wait. Both hands?”

“Yeah, I’m ambidextrous. I pitch with both hands so I have to catch with both as well.” Jeongyeon explains.

Nayeon looks almost impressed. Then she shakes her head and grins, the mischief back, as if this had just been intermission and now the game was back on. The triumphant look in her eyes even before she speaks is enough to make the annoyance bubble under every inch of Jeongyeon’s skin.

“So you got good moves with those hands?”

Jeongyeon feels her mouth fall slightly open and her ears burn. “Wh- … shut up!”

“Mm, I’m just saying.” Nayeon shrugs.

“And I’m telling you to shut up.” Jeongyeon splutters.

“If I say  _ make me _ are you gonna?”

“If you say that I’m gonna report you for being on our school grounds after hours.”

“It’s not that late.” Nayeon crosses her arms.

“I’d say nine, so you’re an hour out.”

“Fine. It’s not like you have the guts to kiss me anyways.” Nayeon looks completely unfazed.

Jeongyeon seethes. The urge to- Jeongyeon doesn’t even know what she wants to. But she knows that she hates how Nayeon swings her hips in the sweatpants as she walks back to the batter’s box. As she undoes the bun on her head to let her damp hair frame her face, running a hand through it to make it properly tousled. Jeongyeon hates it. Hates how good it looks.

“Well?” Nayeon puts a hand on her hip and tilts her face.

Jeongyeon considers for a moment if it’d be okay to miss the batter’s box by a foot or two just to get Nayeon’s smirk off the fucking field. But she merely huffs and then inhales deeply. Puts on the pitcher’s mitt and holds the ball in a knuckleball grip. It’s not a grip she’s very well-versed in, and her hand complains almost immediately at the strain. But she tries anyways.

 

Nayeon picks up the ball, throwing it underhand and controlled back to Jeongyeon. Moves back to the side. And Jeongyeon readies herself for another pitch.

 

…

 

Jeongyeon winces. There’s a bump in the road, and Jeongyeon didn’t manage to miss it. But Nayeon doesn’t wake. Instead she just sighs and shifts in her seat, forehead against the cool window.

 

Okay, so there really is a perfectly good reason as to why a cheerleader from the rival university is asleep in the passenger seat of Jeongyeon’s old Hyundai. And it has everything to do with said cheerleader being a dumbass. You see, the fool, as Jeongyeon prefers to call her, forgot the slightly important detail that the last train home leaves Hanyang University Station at 9:50 pm, and Nayeon happened to not be on that train, simply because of being busy fetching balls for Jeongyeon for the better part of two hours. It really wasn’t until the security guard asked if they wanted to get out before he locked up, that they realized the time. Definitely too late to catch the last train.

So really, what other choice does Jeongyeon have but to offer the girl a ride home? She  _ does _ after all, have a car. And the alternatives would be having the girl stay in Jihyo and Jeongyeon’s room or leaving her to her own fate outside campus.

So here they are. Except of course the fool falls asleep within thirty seconds as if she’s the one who’s tired from the practice session.

 

Dumbass.

 

Jeongyeon stops for a red light, and looks over at Nayeon. The duffel bag is in her lap and she’s cradling it like it’s a baby, fingers digging into the coarse fabric. Her breathing is steady and slow, only interrupted by a few strands of black hair stuck on her lip. Without really realizing it, Jeongyeon moves the hair out of the way. You know, in case it disturbed her sleep enough to make her wake. But only,  _ only _ because that prospect might mean that Jeongyeon would have to have an actual conversation with the girl. Or enjoy a possible awkward silence. But no matter what, Jeongyeon prefers that she just sleeps.

 

The light turns, and Jeongyeon drives again. Sees out of the corner of her eye how Nayeon’s lips twitch, and then hears a faint sound. The girl sighs in her sleep, and Jeongyeon changes gears. Lets the drive take up her entire conscience as she looks ahead once more. Traffic is low at this hour, but staring at a sleeping cheerleader is honestly a terrible excuse to crash.

City lights pass overhead, and Jeongyeon switches lanes to go left. The light is green and she makes the turn. The power of it makes Nayeon shift again, and this time she mumbles. Jeongyeon can’t make it out, but deduces from the growl of Nayeon’s stomach that she’s probably hungry.

 

Fool.

 

It’s only another five minutes until Jeongyeon pulls up in front of Konkuk university’s main entrance, and she turns off the engine. It doesn’t wake the sleeping fool. Girl. Fool. Dumbass.

“Nayeon-ah.” Jeongyeon says neutrally. It feels weird to say her name. And it hits Jeongyeon that she doesn’t know Nayeon’s year. Maybe she’s older than Jeongyeon?

Nayeon mumbles in her sleep and hugs the duffel bag tighter. Jeongyeon rolls her eyes.

“Nayeon.” Jeongyeon puts a little more force in her voice.

Nayeon’s eyelids flutter and she comes to with a sharp inhale.

“Mh?” Nayeon groans and looks over at Jeongyeon as if in a haze. Blinks a few times and seems to realize her whereabouts. Her eyes show the slight panic, and it almost makes Jeongyeon happy to have let her sleep. Just for that look of realization. The embarrassment is visible only for a second though, as Nayeon then grins slyly, her glistening eyes a tell that she’s about to say something cheeky. And Jeongyeon simply waits for it.

“So,” Nayeon starts, “are you going to come in for a nightcap or?”

“You wish.” Jeongyeon was ready.

“I do.” Nayeon shrugs. “But I guess I’m not done working you.”

“Is that why you stayed tonight?” Jeongyeon asks. Regrets it immediately. This was exactly the question she didn’t want to ask.

Nayeon presses her lips together in a way that makes her cheeks puff softly. She seems to consider for a moment, and then shrugs. “I noticed you stayed behind even if that short girl tried to pull you with her.”

“Chaeyoung, yeah. She’s a great friend, but she’s new still and she-”

“Has a crush on you?” Nayeon finishes the sentence.

“Pretty sure, yeah.” Jeongyeon scrunches her nose. “I’ll give it a few more weeks and if it doesn’t pass then…”

Nayeon nods. Opens her mouth but then closes it.

Jeongyeon doesn’t ask more. Doesn’t  note on the fact that Nayeon still hasn’t answered her question.

A familiar tension threatens to build, but then Nayeon opens the car door.

“Goodnight, Yoo Jeongyeon.”

“Goodnight, uh… Nayeon.” Jeongyeon can feel her cheeks warm from the awkwardness of realizing she doesn’t know Nayeon’s full name.

“Im Nayeon.” Nayeon says, getting out of the car. Then she leans down to look into the car again, a frown on her face. “How did you know my name in the first place anyway? I never told you?”

“I heard that girl you hang around yell at you at the first game.” Jeongyeon says without thinking.

“Oh. So it stuck, then?” Nayeon’s voice drips with confidence and her eyes glisten. “Guess I made quite an impression.”

“Beat the record for how fast I could dislike a person, that’s for sure.” Jeongyeon stares at her coolly. 

Nayeon laughs.

“Hey, you know my name too.”

“Yeah? I looked you up on your team’s page, after we met. You  _ definitely _ stuck.” Nayeon winks. Then she closes the door. Walks away with a wave, the duffel bag bouncing on her hip as she walks.

 

Jeongyeon sits in the car for another ten minutes before finally turning back. Doesn’t know why. Doesn’t ask herself either. Just listens to the endless replay of Nayeon’s laugh in her ears. It’s annoying and shrill and disruptive in every single way. Definitely nothing more. 


	3. Double Play

Jeongyeon throws the ball into her mitt and picks it up again. 

She left class fast. Got changed fast. Walked out of the changing room before Jihyo’s pep-talk. And now she’s here. 

Waiting.

She has to show, right? The guests’ changing rooms are right there. But what if they already left? What if they’re on the field? Jeongyeon can’t go out there until they do so as a team. But she’s bound to come by, right? God, this is so stupid, why is she even here? It’s downright desperate. Jeongyeon clenches the white leather ball. Runs her thumb over the red string. Nayeon did the same that night.

It’s been two weeks, and they haven’t seen each other since. And it would be a lie to say that Jeongyeon hadn’t been a little excited to see her again. Not because of her annoying yelling or because of her dumb laugh. But because there was another Nayeon that night. Someone genuine. Someone whose laugh chimed instead of cut in Jeongyeon’s ears, and whose eyes shone when she finally managed a proper pitch at Jeongyeon. The same someone who blushed when she couldn’t fit Jeongyeon’s pitcher glove, and told Jeongyeon about her insecurities.

 

The door to the cheerleaders’ changing room opens, and a head of black hair walks out with her back to the opening. Jeongyeon’s heart jolts once, but she quickly realizes that the shoulders are wrong. That the hair is too long and the waist too wide. It’s not Nayeon. It’s someone else. The one with the high cheekbones. She looks around, noticing Jeongyeon’s eyes on her. Confusion. She has no clue who Jeongyeon is. Jeongyeon looks down. Throws the ball into the mitt again and picks it up. The soft thuds of white leather hitting brown takes over for the chattering as the girl closes the door to the konkuk cheerleaders’ changing room. Jeongyeon hears the steps, and then she walks past.

Okay. So that means the rest are inside, right? It has to be.

Jeongyeon runs a hand over the brim of her cap.  _ ‘86, ‘89, ‘92, ‘96 _ . 

Honestly Jeongyeon isn’t really sure why she’s this hyped on seeing Nayeon, but at this point she’s done asking. She just hopes this might be the end of Nayeon ruining Jeongyeon’s game. She’s pitching today, as per Jihyo’s orders, and this time she doesn’t mind as much. Nayeon can’t seriously keep coming for Jeongyeon, right? Not after that night.

 

The sound of excited conversation wakes Jeongyeon and looks up again. Holds the ball in one hand, the other gloved. The door to the cheerleaders’ changing room is open. And there she is. With her arms linked with the presumed-to-be-Sana girl, she walks at the front of the group, leading them out of the changing room and towards the field. Towards Jeongyeon. They will have to pass her.

She hasn’t seen Jeongyeon. Is busy explaining something to the girl on her arm.

Jeongyeon shifts on purpose. It works. Nayeon’s head shifts towards Jeongyeon, and her eyes find Jeongyeon’s.

“H-”

Jeongyeon’s greeting catch in her throat as Nayeon looks away. Sana looks at her. Then looks at Jeongyeon. Then frowns and looks ahead. And one by one the other cheerleaders glance at her before - led by Nayeon - they pass wordlessly. A few of them send her unknowing smiles. The girl with the bob. The tallest one. The pale one and the one holding her hand. The rest just seem confused by her presence - or maybe by the tension in the air. The charge.

 

… 

 

Blood rushes in Jeongyeon’s ears and she grabs the bat a little tighter. The noise of the crowd disappears. There is only her, and Konkuk’s relief pitcher. No-one else.

The pitcher raises her leg and Jeongyeon prepares herself. Sees the placement of the fingers and lowers her bat just in time. The sound of the ball against the bat resonates in the entire stadium, and the force surges through Jeongyeon. The bat hits the ground as she runs, and she sees the ball caught in the outfield. But it doesn’t matter. Because Konkuk’s shortstop fumbles and Mina reaches third base safely. And now it’s up to Lisa to get her home.

Registering the first base, Jeongyeon keeps an eye on Lisa as she grabs the bat. She’s fast and exact, and the Kunkuk relief pitcher is a freshman. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a freshman. But it’s hard being young and ambitious when facing Lisa.

“Ball!”

The umpire’s voice sounds in Jeongyeon’s ears and she grins. The pitcher huffs and adjusts her cap. Pulls herself together. And it’s good that she does, because they need to get Mina home and not just get Lisa a walk to first. They need this point. This inning. This game.

The bat hits the ball with the immense force only their outfielders are able to produce, and the ball flies through the air.

Mina runs. Jeongyeon stops breathing. Forgets herself and stares into the outfield as the ball is picked up. But it’s too late. And it doesn’t matter that Jeongyeon forgot to run. Because the crowd explodes as Mina’s foot meets the home plate, and the scoreboard changes the inning to 3-1, making the total score 15-13. 

One half of an inning left. One. And it’s not Jeongyeon’s battle. Hers is over, once they’re out. It’s Arin who has to survive them this last part of the game. 

Honestly, at this point, Jeongyeon has more faith in Arin than she does in herself. She even tried to switch with Bona to let her pitch this game, but the mad girlie had somehow gotten into her head - and Jeongyeon just knows that Jihyo is a part of this ordeal - that Jeongyeon has to pitch every game against Konkuk even if it means their own demise.

_ “You can’t just give up because you have the hots for some girl” _ is Bona’s eternal argument, before handing Jeongyeon the custom made mitt.

_ The hots.  _ As if. She’s just annoying and distracts Jeongyeon on purpose, that’s all. Except… except she hasn’t yelled at Jeongyeon at all this game. 

Somehow though, the absence of Nayeon’s shrill yells is just as confusing and distracting as the presence of them. They’re winning after all - Hanyang - so why isn’t Nayeon trying to stop it? And why the hell didn’t Jeongyeon confront her that night? Why had she been so scared of knowing what it was? It wasn’t that deep, right? It was just- It was definitely not right now she was supposed to be thinking about this. Because Momo’s bat swings through the air and sends the ball flying.

Jeongyeon runs. Judges the distance as the ball is caught outfield and sent right to second base. But she makes it.

Lisa doesn’t.

The tag makes three outs, and they switch.

“Don’t try the slider, stick to what you know.” Jeongyeon instructs quietly as she passes Arin. Arin nods, and Jeongyeon adjusts her cap. 

“Thanks, unnie.” Arin mutters softly.

“You got this.” Jeongyeon says. “And remember, 26 has a bad low swing.”

“26, got it.” Arin looks determined, though her eyes are young and her stance unsure. She’ll learn in time, just like Jeongyeon did. The important thing is just to be there for her. Be for Arin what Sunmi was for her.

“Jeong!” Jihyo’s voice calls from the bullpen, busy putting on the chest protection.

Jeongyeon gestures that she’s on her way, and looks back at Arin. Pats her shoulder and hurries across the field. It’s not the biggest game for Arin. But it’s good to let her know she’s important. It’s the only way to make sure there’s someone to take over. Because next year it’s only her and Arin left. Both Bona and Bomi will graduate come summer.

“You good?” Jeongyeon asks when she reaches the bullpen. Jihyo is fumbling with her leg guard.

“Yeah, I just can’t get this f- this thing to work.”

“That’s a thousand won, Park.” Jeongyeon kneels to fix the leg guard, and Jihyo looks like she’s about to whack the cap off of Jeongyeon’s head. But she doesn’t. She just bumps elbows with Jeongyeon before walking out.

Jeongyeon doesn’t sit down. Watches instead as the team gets ready, Seulgi sending instructions to Lisa and Momo on either side of her. And then Jeongyeon turns her head back towards the stands. The konkuk cheerleaders are doing a routine of some sorts, two girls being twirled in the air before being caught. The crowd cheers. Nayeon’s hair plays in the wind and a bit of skin shows between the shirt and the skirt on her lower back. Not that Jeongyeon cares. Not at all. Instead she quickly shakes her head and returns her eyes to the game. It’s good that Nayeon stopped being a pain in the ass. She’s is the last thing Jeongyeon needs in her life right now.

 

Good riddance.

Right?

 

…

 

Sana closes the door to the study hall, and Nayeon stretches her neck. It’s late, and they’re finally done. Finally, because Sana’s concentration has been horrible and she didn’t finish reading nearly as fast as she should have. Still, Nayeon didn’t leave when she was done. Didn’t even ask if she could, or indicate in any other way that she might. She merely sat, studying for the next and last exam while Sana glared at the words in her book in an attempt to get them to make sense.

Sana loves her for that.

But now it’s almost ten in the evening and the halls are empty of life and light.

“If we get abducted or murdered here, no-one would ever find out.” Nayeon comments dryly.

“Is that a hope or a fear?” Sana asks as the automatic lights take note of their presence and turn on.

“Considering next week’s game? A hope.”

“Oh, come on. It can’t be that bad.” Sana clicks her tongue. “Was it really that awkward?”

Nayeon shrugs. She hasn’t talked about  _ that night _ at all, since it happened a month ago. And Sana has resided to thinking they either had a huge fight or just the opposite. But all Sana knows is that Nayeon showed up at breakfast the next morning with bags under her eyes and a silence so determined that she didn’t even clown Sana for dropping her spoon into her oatmeal when Dahyun had sat down beside her.

 

The two friends walk in silence out of the building across the grounds towards their dorm building. They live on the same floor but in opposite ends. Sana hates that sometimes. Wishes she could room with Nayeon like they did last year. But the rooms are switched up every year, and they hadn’t been fast enough to get it switched back themselves. So now Sana shares the room with their teammate Somin while Nayeon shares with a psychology major named Seolhyun. Of course, there’s only a few months until their senior year and then they’ll find a way to room again. Somehow. Or maybe… no. But if fate had its way and she could get to share a room with-

“Nayeon?” Sana, says despite herself. Can’t keep it in.

“Yeah?” Nayeon stops right by the door to the stairwell leading up to their floor, a hand on the handle.

Sana bites her lip. It’s embarrassing to admit that the suspicion roaming in her mind is the cause of her lack of focus tonight, but the closer they get to going separate ways the more the words press on her tongue. It’s like it takes up her entire conscience. 

“... Do you think they’re dating?”

“Wha- Who?” Nayeon looks absolutely lost.

“Joy and Dahyun. I think they might be dating.”

“No.” Nayeon snorts.

“They could be,” Sana defends herself. “I mean they’re always together.”

“They’re interns in the same research group and they knew each other from high school.” Nayeon shrugs. “It’s not different from you and me.”

“Do you think she thinks we’re dating?” The words slip from Sana unintentionally, the fear striking fast and hard.

“Oh my god, Sana. Get it together.” Nayeon says, an expression of absolute exasperation on her face.

“I’m sorry, it’s- I just- I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t mean to be this useless.” Sana feels her cheeks burn. It’s so embarrassing. She’s never like this. If she likes someone she just goes for it. So how come this is so different? It’s almost like she’s more afraid of the possibility that Dahyun might return her feelings, than the fear of rejection. She’s been rejected plenty of times.

“You’re in love with her.” Nayeon shrugs. “You’re genuinely in love with her.”

Sana gulps. Why did she have to say it out loud? It was unfair.

“You usually go for someone early on and when you fall in love you’re already with them. But you hesitated with Dahyun so long and now the feelings are stronger than you wanted, but the risk of her not returning them is still there, but because you like her as much as you do, it’s scarier.” Nayeon looks lost in thought. “Like, what if, all this time, the little hints you think you may have picked up are just that. Hints. And that really, if she was faced with a choice, she wouldn’t choose you.”

Nayeon’s hand slips from the door, and she leans against the wall next to it. Sana joins her.

“Pretty much…”

Nayeon looks at her. Offers a hand.

“Why did you hesitate? It wasn’t more than a week from meeting her that you told me you had that dream of you two kissing.”

Sana shrugs. “It was the start of the year, and I wanted to focus on myself. I didn’t want to date her. And usually when I choose not to like someone, it works. But there’s something about her I just don’t get. It’s like she smiles at me like I’m the best person in her eyes?”

“Maybe you are.” Nayeon suggests.

Sana’s stomach jolts. What she wouldn’t give for that to be true.

“But I don’t know that. And I can’t just go ask her out. I just- I can’t. If she doesn’t like me back it’ll be so awkward and the team needs to stick together - I mean she only just got back after her sprain and we can’t risk anything, especially considering how close the baseball team is to actually going through to the playoffs.”

Nayeon looks like she’s considering whether to buy this very obviously lame and groundless excuse.

“Then be subtle?” Nayeon says, choosing to let Sana live. “Try flirting and see how she responds?”

“What if she finds that uncomfortable though?”

“Why would she? Come on, you’re a flirty girl, we all know that, and it’s a part of what makes you, you. She knows it too.” Nayeon argues, pushing herself from the wall to look at Sana properly. “Honestly, she’s probably noticed that it’s specifically her you don’t flirt with. I mean for heaven’s sake, you flirt with Joy all the time even though you’re jealous of her.”

“Wait, what if she thinks I’m into Joy?”

Nayeon loses it. Looks up at the ceiling with a groan.

“I’m sorry.” Sana says, flustered. “I just need advice on how to- you know, to figure out if she likes me without actually asking her. I need to know.”

Nayeon huffs and sighs, hand rubbing over her face. For a moment she seems to go through things in her head, but then she looks at Sana.

“I don’t know. My only advice is to flirt with her and see how she reacts. You know her, you’re friends. You know how all of us react when you flirt. Do the experiment, the scientific way. If she reacts differently than us, there’s a fair chance she either likes you or can’t stand you. The last, by the way, is not a possibility. It’s all about making the effort to notice her reaction patterns and how she responds. Does she act differently when you’re just friendly or when you say cheesy shit to her?”

Sana nods. “And what if she does? Act differently, I mean?”

“Then she likes you and you get to ride off into the sunset with your princess? What do I know?” Nayeon opens the door to the stairwell, clearly agitated by now. Sana feels the guilt stab. She hadn’t meant to piss Nayeon off. It had was genuine concern.

Sana looks at her best friend for a moment before following her.

“Listen,” Nayeon says as they ascend the staircase to their floor, “I’m the worst person to ask because I never ever follow through anyways, okay? I’m good at spotting when someone likes me but I never fucking follow through.”

Sana bites the inside of her cheek to keep from saying what’s on her mind. If she does, Nayeon might get actually mad. And it won’t be unjustified.

 

They reach the second floor, and Sana stops at the first door. Her’s and Somin’s. The buzz of music and conversation from the rooms brings a little life to the hallway and Nayeon looks at her. For a moment there’s frailty in her eyes and a frown on her face. Then she shakes her head and turns to walk away.

 

“Just kiss her, man. I don’t know what it is you think you’ve got to lose, but just… just kiss her.”

 

…

 

The heat of the summer sun burns on Jeongyeon’s arms and she blesses Jihyo for reminding her to wear sunscreen. The summer break is here but Baseball season is at its height. It’s now they get the biggest crowds. Now the major league fans come to the college games just for the spirit, making the stadium sound like a rock concert. But right now it’s empty with the exception of their team. It’s still an hour until the guests start pouring in, which means half an hour until they start preparing the field. Though considering they’ve already been at it for an hour, and adding the probable length of today’s game, it’s good that they’ll be kicked off the field soon.

“Okay, I want everyone coming at Arin with all you have.” Jihyo orders, directing the players. “We’ll do a ball run later.”

The players do as instructed line up, ready to bat against Arin, and Jeongyeon makes sure to stand right behind Bona.

“You have to pitch today.” Jeongyeon says.

“Jeongyeon, no.” Bona’s voice is soft and her eyes as well, as she angles her head to look at her classmate.

“Please, Ppo-ya” Jeongyeon resorts to using her nickname. It’s a cheap move, but Bona smiles.

“You can do it.” Bona says. Reaches back and squeezes Jeongyeon’s hand.

“I can’t.” Jeongyeon pleads. “I promise, if there was any way I thought I could handle this, I would. But I can’t. I need you to take over.”

“There’s no way.” Bona looks genuinely sad.

“Why not? Because Jihyo says I have to pitch when it’s  _ her _ team?”

“No. I mean, it was at the start of the season. But haven’t you noticed?” Bona lets go of Jeongyeon’s hand. Turns her body and face from Jeongyeon’s.

“Noticed what?” 

The queue moves forwards and so do Bona and Jeongyeon. 

“How many of the past five games have you pitched?” Bona asks, looking determinately at Lisa’s neck.

The sound of bat to ball barely registers.

“... all.”

Bona nods. “I thought it’d get better, but it’s not. It’s… Severe wrist tendonitis. I can bat, but my pitch is off. There’s just too much pain. And it probably won’t go away until I stop playing and give it time to rest. We’re switching Arin up to become a first pitcher soon, that’s why Jihyo has been pushing her so much lately.”

A rush of hurt at the betrayal courses through Jeongyeon. Jihyo knew?

“Why haven’t we been informed of this?” Jeongyeon hisses. “Why didn’t you tell me? We’re friends. You can trust me. You could’ve trusted me.”

“We wanted to wait until after this game. I didn’t get the official no-good from the doctor until this morning, and we don’t want to put extra pressure on anyone, especially you.” Bona’s voice quietens and Jeongyeon steps a little closer to hear properly. “I mean considering who we’re playing. Plus it’ll be another week until we can change the registration to make Arin first pitcher. We’ll will inform everyone after the game, and we will ask Arin to step up. Jihyo is switching you out after sixth so you get your full game for your stats and then we’ll see how she deals. I’m sorry Jeong. I really am.”

Jeongyeon’s ears rush as Lisa steps from the batter box onto the home plate, tightening her hands around the bat.

Has it really been this bad? Has she really been this unstable for them to want to spare her like this? Sure, it makes sense to wait until they got the results from the doctor to avoid the worry, and as long as anyone didn’t take note of it, fine, but Jeongyeon? Bona and Jeongyeon have been the same year, same major, same classes, since the very start. They joined the team together. And now this?

Bona doesn’t explain further, and Jeongyeon doesn’t ask her to. She’s too ashamed of herself. Too angry with Nayeon - with herself. So instead, she watches as Bona steps onto the home plate and nods at Arin.

The ball is sent far into the left outfield, and Arin grabs another ball from the net. Jihyo shifts in her position as catcher, and Jeongyeon takes the bat from Bona. Finds Arin’s eyes as she adjusts her stand. She’s learnt well. Her footing has improved immensely. With narrowed eyes, Jeongyeon spots the grip on the ball. A slider. It’s an acknowledgement of Jeongyeon.

It’s just that Jeongyeon doesn’t feel worthy of it at all.

 

…

 

Jeongyeon exits the changing room, and gives a long deep sigh. She can hear the crowd slowly gathering in the stands above her head. It’s half an hour before the game starts, but she hasn’t changed into the game uniform yet. She can feel the clammy shirt against her back, but the changing room was too warm and tense and she couldn’t breathe. It’s better out here where the air is clear, and where she doesn’t keep looking at Bona and Jihyo, trying to guess how they’ll break the news to the rest of the team once the ninth inning is over. But the relief of the fresh air in the hall is brief, as the sound of chatter pour through the now open main entrance at the end of the hall. A sea of green-clad girls pour through the doors. The first 12 in players uniforms. Then a group of support personnel. And finally. The cheerleaders. 

Jeongyeon’s stomach turns, but she can’t move. The sensible thing here would be to just discreetly step back into the changing room, without trying to find her in the crowd without- but she’s right there. She’s walking between Sana and a shorter girl with pale skin. They look in deep conversation.

Jeongyeon needs to disappear. Immediately. Because the crowd is coming this way, and even though they’re going to turn left soon to head into the guests’ changing rooms, there’s still a chance she might see Jeongyeon.

But even so? What would happen if she did? What was the worst that could happen?

She doesn’t have to wait to find out. Because Nayeon frowns and looks up, as if she can feel Jeongyeon’s gaze on her. For a moment, there’s a hope in Jeongyeon’s heart. One she doesn’t recognize or like. It’s that one second where Nayeon’s eyes look the way they did when she first opened them after having been asleep in Jeongyeon’s car.

Then she looks away without a single acknowledgement. Again. Engages once more in the conversation with Sana and the pale girl.

Jeongyeon’s blood boils. One time was bad, but this fucking dejavu taken straight out of Satan’s butthole? No.

It shouldn’t be making her this mad though. She should be used to it by now - she shouldn’t care anymore. But she does. She fucking cares. And it hurts that she does, but she- she can’t just pretend that she doesn’t know Jeongyeon. That she hasn’t been an annoying shit towards Jeongyeon for two months just to turn it around for one night. And now this. It’s almost worse than her relentless flirting and intentional sabotage. No. It’s definitely worse. It’s not excusable anymore. Not excusable that Jeongyeon knew it would happen again, yet stayed for a hope she shouldn’t have. That she lets herself get put into situations where Nayeon can just do stuff like this to her, over and over. It’s not excusable at all.

But still, it’s not like Jeongyeon wants to be friends or anything. It’s just- she could at least acknowledge that Jeongyeon is a person. Right?

 

“Unnie?”

Chaeyoung’s voice pulls Jeongyeon’s eyes from Nayeon and the other cheerleaders. She hadn’t even heard Chaeyoung exit the changing room.

“Oh, hey.” Jeongyeon clears her throat.

“Is that her?” Chaeyoung asks, her eyes on the crowd. “With the smile?”

“Huh?” Jeongyeon plays stupid even though it’s unfair on Chaeyoung.

“She’s pretty.” Chaeyoung notes.

Jeongyeon sighs. Yeah. Yeah she is.

“They’re all pretty.” Chaeyoung continues.  “They’re all  _ really _ pretty.”

“They’re cheerleaders, Chaengie.” Jeongyeon can’t help but be amused at the kid.

“I know. But they’re so pretty.” Chaeyoung sounds a little breathless.

Jeongyeon gives a chuckle. “You’re drooling…”

“Hey, just because I’m not getting you, doesn’t mean I’m going to settle for singledom.” Chaeyoung mentions as if this information is nothing. Jeongyeon hums as a response. It’s all she can do. It’s not like she can say  _ hey, glad we got this out in the open _ . And it’s not that she doesn’t like Chaeyoung at all. It’s just… not like that. You can’t control your feelings, and all that. Not that she has feelings for anyone.

“Okay, that one isn’t yours, right?” Chaeyoung’s tone changes, pulling Jeongyeon from her thoughts.

“None of them are  _ mine _ .” Jeongyeon clarifies.

“I know I know, but the one with the rose colored hair. She’s not yours, right?”

“Chae-”

“Will you  _ just _ confirm.” Chaeyoung asks impatiently. Jeongyeon searches the crowd, her eyes landing on a girl with a round face and rose-colored hair. She’s smiling at one of the others, the tallest one. 

“No.” Jeongyeon says as her eyes naturally travel back to Nayeon’s. “She’s not mine.”

 

… 

 

The bus is loud and threatening to burst its confines from song. Even if they lost, they keep the mood up. They have to. Because they still have a shot at the playoffs and if they want to grasp it, they can’t get bummed every time they lose. So Nayeon leads the cheerleaders in a relentless attempt at making their baseball players laugh and smile. They do cheerful acrostic poems and sing songs to get the mood going.

Sana watches her best friend with adoration. She might say she’s not a leader, but this kind of effort is exactly what makes her one. Still, Sana can’t help getting a little distracted by the fact that she’s sitting next to Dahyun.

It wasn’t actually Sana’s idea, sitting next to the younger girl, but the moment Joy sat down in the opposite row, Nayeon took the seat between her. That in the process left the seat next to Sana free and left Dahyun properly perplexed. So there she was; Dahyun. On the aisle seat beside Sana. And she’s just there, happily participating in whatever shenanigans Nayeon suggests, seemingly completely unaware of the effect her presence has on her seatmate. That Sana is about to burst with butterflies just at her closeness. But it’s not like Sana can do anything about it. So instead, she looks at her best friend. She’s in a weird mood, Nayeon. Ever since she saw Jeongyeon this morning, she’s been weird. _ Too  _ Nayeon somehow. As if she’s forcing herself to take up more space than usual. Compensating?

The urge to pull Nayeon aside and ask what happened that night with Jeongyeon, increases with every day that passes. But Sana hasn’t done it yet. She knows Nayeon keeps it from her on purpose, and she doesn’t want information that Nayeon doesn’t want to give.

“Sana, do an acrostic poem with your name!” Nayeon’s voice sounds a little shrill, as if she’s yelled too much, and it startles Sana. Pulls her from though.

“I, uh-” Sana hurries to shift in her seat, but accidentally bumps Dahyun in the process. “S-sorry.”

Dahyun just beams and shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

Sana’s stomach bubbles and she nods. Then looks at Nayeon. Narrows her eyes. Okay. She’s got this. Even if she can’t confront her best friend or defend herself from the older girl’s knowing smirk, she still has a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Sa.” Nayeon says.

“Sana hates-” Sana smirks.

Nayeon scowls, obviously reading Sana right. “ _ No. _ ”

“No, come on, let me finish.” Sana sings.

Nayeon scowls. “No fucking way, Minatozaki, I’m not letting you come for me like this.”

“Oh come on, unnie.” Tzuyu says, a hopeful glint in her eye.

“Yeah, come on, unnie, let her finish.” Dahyun joins happily turning in her seat to face Nayeon, her back now on Sana. Sana giggles and daringly puts her arms on either of Dahyun’s shoulders. Swears she feels the girl jolt. But she doesn’t seem to mind. Not at all.

“Please, unnie, please.” Sana begs in her cutest little voice. Everyone laughs. Nayeon glares. And for once Sana is glad not to share a room with her.

“Fine, whatever.  _ Na _ .”

“Natto.” Sana says decidedly. Grins superiorly at the older girl.

“What the- I actually hate you.” Nayeon growls. Dahyun shakes with laughter and Sana slides a little closer, beaming at her best friend.

“Tzuyu, do an acrostic poem!” Nayeon says decidedly.

Tzuyu seems to weigh her options but in the end she agrees. 

Sana watches happily as Tzuyu does a good one, her arms still resting on Dahyun’s shoulders. But just as Tzuyu is about to finish, the bus slows to stop for a red light and Sana gets pushed back and out of balance. For a second she considers grabbing Dahyun tighter to keep steady, but instinct makes her pull back and sit down in the seat properly instead. Dahyun looks around at her, shuffling in her seat to face Sana.

“You were gonna say Nayeon if she hadn’t caught you, right?” Dahyun asks quietly.

“Oh, definitely.” Sana chuckles.

Dahyun smiles. She’s always… always smiling. And there’s a moment where Sana could’ve acted. Where she could’ve put her hand on Dahyun’s, resting so temptingly between them. Where it even looked like Dahyun might do something. Where her gaze was unusually intense, and her eyes travelled down. Sana swears they did. But next moment Dahyun’s eyes are back on hers, and Sana feels them waver. The moment is gone like a butterfly you tried to photograph up close. Gone with the wind.

But it’s still good. It’s still Dahyun.

 

Nayeon’s laugh is exaggerated as it bounces off the walls of the bus, the older girl once more trying to keep the mood up. But no one notices this. Only Sana.

 

… 

 

Jeongyeon slumps back against the pillows stacked as a buffer between herself and the wall. The movie is over, and the room is dark. No-one bothers to turn on the lights. The result is an almost liberating peace, only interrupted by Chaeyoung’s phone screen lighting up. Jeongyeon doesn’t note it, even if she would’ve preferred complete darkness. The short stop had somehow managed to get the rose colored girl’s number, and had been texting her all through dinner and the movie.

“Guys?” Bona’s voice shakes as she speaks into the darkness. Jeongyeon gets it. It’s easier if she just knows they’re there, rather than facing their looks. She’s admitting defeat.

The quiet chatter dies out and Mina mumbles for Momo to wake. They wait until the latter of the two groans and asks what’s going on.

“I… I have something to announce.” Bona says. Jeongyeon can hear that she’s on the verge of tears.

“What’s going on?” Momo asks, dazed and confused. More from the situation than sleep it seems. Jeongyeon hushes her and reaches down, to where she thinks Momo is situated. Finds her arms and squeezes it lightly.

“I have to sit out the rest of the season.”

The silence is as heavy as the darkness, and Jeongyeon feels how it hurts just as much this time as last.

“What do you mean?” Mina’s voice shakes slightly.

“I have severe wrist tendonitis in my right hand, and I… I can still bat but I can’t pitch. We agreed that we’ll look for a permanent replacement for the rest of the season but for now, we’re switching Arin in as first pitcher and-”

“What?!” Momo’s voice is loud and she tugs her arm from Jeongyeon’s grasp.

“Momo.” Mina says quietly. Jeongyeon feels a shift on the bed and knows Mina has tugged Momo close. They’re already under pressure, looking at the prospect of no longer sharing a room next year unless they find an apartment. The dorm change is coming up. Of course that also means Jeongyeon and Jihyo won’t be rooming together, but they aren’t as pressured as Mina and Momo.

“We couldn’t talk about it too much until we got confirmation from Bona’s physician and before getting Arin to agree.” Jihyo explains, sadness in her voice. Turns on her phone as if to have a little light. No one dares get up to turn on the big light. But they need to face each other now. Now that the truth is out.

Arin is the one who eventually turns on the lamp by Mina’s bed. Subtle, but enough. Jeongyeon nods in acknowledgement. A single look to her right, reveals to Jeongyeon that Momo is in fact being cradled by Mina. That her face is all screwed up and that Mina’s thumb rubs soothingly over the back of her girlfriend’s hand. She’s not good with change. And definitely not when it involves her friends.

“I’m sorry to leave you like this just before the playoffs.” Bona sounds tired. Looks tired.

Jeongyeon can feel eyes on her and looks around to meet Jihyo’s. They’re full of worry, but Jeongyeon merely nods. Silently tells her best friend that she already knew. That she has taken on the responsibility. And besides, she played… not good, but decent today, considering the opponent.

There’s about a minute where no one really speaks. Where people just look from Jihyo to Bona, Arin then Jeongyeon and finally back at Jihyo. Then Chaeyoung breaks the silence, her eyes on Bona.

“Will you be okay?”

Bona nods. “I’ll have to wear a wrist guard most of the time but it’s good. Besides, Arin is amazing and Jeongyeon and Bomi too.”

Chaeyoung nods. So do the rest.

Jeongyeon doesn’t feel like she deserves any of that praise. But she can’t deny it even if she wants to. It’ll be too much pressure on Arin and Bomi. So instead of arguing, she merely stays adamant. Waits until the party breaks up. Until Momo is back asleep. Until Jihyo asks if she’s coming.

“I just need a minute.” Jeongyeon says, “It’s okay, I have my key.”

“You sure?” Jihyo looks from Jeongyeon to Momo sleeping with her head in Mina’s lap and then to Mina. Narrows her eyes a little and then nods to herself.

She leaves them alone.

Mina doesn’t ask why Jeongyeon stays. They both know.

“How did you know you liked her?” Jeongyeon asks, nodding down at Momo.

Mina shrugs. It’s the best and worst thing about Mina, that she knows these things. Knows way more than she lets on, and somehow knew what Jeongyeon needed. 

“I didn’t  _ know _ for a while.” Mina starts, looking down at her girlfriend. “There wasn’t just one moment that made me realize. It was just a bunch of little things more than one big incident.”

“Like what?”

“Uh well, I caught myself staring across the room in the morning when she slept, because I thought it was cute how she looks with her mouth open and her hands clutching the sheets.” Mina runs her fingers through the sleeping girls’ hair, a loving expression on her face. “Then I started noticing how I kept trying to make her laugh and learned where she was the most ticklish. And when we touched it wasn’t like getting electrocuted, but rather like how it feels when you put your hand in water? How it envelops you? It was all just bright. And I accumulated all these things slowly, and it seemed less and less like a friendship and more like a relationship that had just not gotten to be that yet. But I think for me the problem wasn’t that I wasn’t aware, but that I didn’t know how to act on it. I mean we had only shared the room for a few weeks when I realized. And I think because we were so awkward about it, I couldn’t get myself to do anything. What if it just kept being awkward and I would have to share a room with her for the rest of my sophomore year?”

“So it was the risk of awkwardness that kept you back?” Jeongyeon asks, drawing up her legs and hugging them. She always feels a little safer in her frailty when it was just Mina. If it had been any of the others, they would’ve teased. Would’ve given her shit or judged her for her extremely slow brain cell taking this long to realize. 

“It was.” Mina says. She doesn’t ask what’s keeping Jeongyeon back. Doesn’t ask anything. Just waits for Jeongyeon to say it herself. Listens. Knows. 

“I fell for the fool.” Jeongyeon mutters. “I fell for her and it hurts me how she ignores me. I hate that it does, because I shouldn’t even like her this much considering the fact that she’s really only been nice to me for one day. But it hurts. Because all I want is just to talk to her and I have no clue why she’s ignoring me, or why I like her. There’s just something about her that drives me absolutely mad, and at the same time makes me want to be closer? It was just so easy to be around her when it was just us. I mean it’s almost scary how easy it is to talk to her. Or at least sometimes. Because then the next moment she’s being an absolute shit. Not just annoying, that doesn’t cover it. She somehow knows exactly how to piss me off. And she’s so stubborn, she never backs down. Fucking pain in my butt. And… and I really like her.”


	4. Liberty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s the tear in my heart  
> I’m alive  
> She’s the tear in my heart  
> I’m on fire  
> She’s the tear in my heart  
> Take me higher  
> Than I’ve ever been
> 
> \- Tear in my Heart // Twenty-One Pilots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is here, thank you for this short but hopefully enjoyable journey ^^

The sun hides behind thick clouds and the rain threatens to fall, but Jeongyeon doesn’t care. She simply raises her leg, inhaling deeply. Then she gives the ball a little squeeze just to make sure of the grip. Aims. Throws.

“Strike!”

Jihyo’s voice rings from the catcher’s box. Momo had missed the shot. Jeongyeon grins at her and raises her mitt. Momo grabs the ball from the crouching Jihyo and hurls it back at Jeongyeon with little precision but lots of force. Her eyes are narrowed and she grips harder around the bat. Nods at Jeongyeon.

“No need to get touchy.” Jeongyeon can’t help but tease. Had it been anyone else, she would’ve never riled up a teammate during practice, but Momo works best if she’s in the zone. If she sees the pitcher as an opponent.

Jeongyeon smirks at her, and Momo huffs her annoyance.

“You gonna throw or what?” Jihyo calls impatiently.

Jeongyeon turns her eyes to the sky. But in a split second her knee is level with her chest and the arm stretched forwards, ball flying through the air.

“Strike!”

Jeongyeon chuckles.

 

It’s a remarkable change from last week. Ever since she talked to Mina, it’s like some burden has been lifted from her shoulders. The relief that had washed over her that night was so liberating, that it even helped her do exactly what she had wanted from the start - get over her. Somehow, now that she was aware of it, she could actually think about something other than her. She could sleep without dreaming about her, walk the halls without listening for her laughter, without trying to spot the white bow in whatever head of long black hair she passed. Honestly, by this point she’s not even too bothered with the fact that she never found out why Nayeon acted like she did. It’s all events that are in the past, and what matters now is the future.

 

The playoffs.

They’re what matter.

 

Momo hits the ball the third time, and it flies far out.

“Okay, that’s it! Remember to stretch!” Jihyo announces, getting to her feet, throwing her mitt in the dirt and pulling the helmet over her head. The short brown hair is a mess, but she flattens it with one hand, helmet in the other.

Jeongyeon looks down at the pitcher’s mound and nods to herself. If they win three of four games now, they’ll be in the playoffs. That’s all they need. Three out of four.

“You good?” Momo asks softly, her voice close.

“Yeah.” Jeongyeon says. Looks up and smiles at her friend. “I can do this.”

“Of course you can. Did you decide who pitches?”

“Arin will take on Kyunghee. I take the other three.”

“Even Konkuk?” Momo looks sceptical. Her attention slips for a second as Mina walks by them, but then she’s back.

“Yeah.” Jeongyeon nods. “She’s good against them but if she takes Konkuk and Kyunghee she’ll pitch two days in a row, she doesn’t have that energy.”

“So why not take Kyunghee yourself and let her take Konkuk? Nothing against you, but if Nayeon is still-”

“She’s not. Honestly. I talked it out with Mina and accepted how I feel. Felt. And besides, Arin, Jihyo, and I actually did discuss the idea of switching, but…” Jeongyeon shrugs. “I kind of want to prove that I can. That I’m not gonna let some girl stop me.”

“Huh… well I like that attitude on you. It suits you.”

Jeongyeon sends her a grin and takes off the mitt. Finally they walk towards the bullpen. In front of them Jihyo is waddling, the leg guards and chest plate making her movements awkward. She stops as soon as she reaches the grass and reaches around to free herself of the uncomfortable chest plate. For a moment Jeongyeon considers if she should help or not, but next second Mina is by Jihyo’s side, helping her. So instead Jeongyeon just follows Momo as they head away from the field, towards the changing rooms.

“Was it really always this humid in August?” Jeongyeon asks when they finally reach the comfort of the air-conditioned hallway.

“I think so.” Momo shrugs. “You just forget every year. Once it’s not there you think it won’t come back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeongyeon stops in the hallway. Momo has her hand on the door to the changing rooms.

“I mean, that you better be absolutely sure that this Nayeon thing is over. If you want to prove yourself, that’s good, I want you to do so. But you have to make absolutely sure that you’re not betting the entire season’s effort on this one game.”

Jeongyeon looks at Momo. She means no harm. There isn’t even an edge to her voice. And somehow, that’s worse than being reprimanded. Because it means her concern is genuine.

 

…

 

Sana zips the skirt at her side and moves her hips to check that it’s okay. Then she tightens the white bows in either of her pigtails and opens the locker. There’s a mirror in it, and she checks her makeup. It’s shimmery and over the top, but it’s like stage make-up. Has to be over-done for the crowd to notice properly. Behind the safety of her locker, she notices Joy dragging Dahyun out of the changing room, and feels a tug in her stomach. The way Joy guides her... It’s almost intimate.

“Three days then you’re out of an excuse.” Nayeon’s voice is low and speaks an annoying truth.

“I’m aware, thank you.” Sana grumbles. Closes the locker. It wasn’t really an excuse she believed in - just a dumb way of getting a few moments of peace. As if it would actually make a difference to the baseball team if things were a little awkward between Sana and Dahyun. But it was the only thing she could think of in the moment, and it seemed that Nayeon knew she was buying time. But in three days their team would be playing the final game against Hanyang. But Nayeon is wrong. Because if Konkuk loose today, she will be out of an excuse before the sun sets. No. Sana can’t think about that. She can only think about today’s game against Sookmyung. It’s all that matters.

“You gonna do it then?” Nayeon asks, clearly not letting Sana get away with anything. “After Hanyang?”

Sana turns to face her best friend. The bow at the top of her head is lopsided. “Honestly? Probably not.”

“Why not? Come on, make yourself a promise. If we make it to playoffs, you ask her out.” Nayeon suggests.

Sana gestures for Nayeon to turn around. “I just don’t think it’d do any of us any good.”

“It would probably do you a whole lot of good to actually get an answer.” Nayeon insists, turning to let Sana fix the white bow. “You’ll regret it if you just let it slide.”

“Like you did with Jeongyeon?” Sana bites. She didn’t mean to say it. Knows it’s a touchy subject.

“Shut up.” Nayeon says, her voice low and warning. She turns to face Sana.

For a moment Sana considers it. But then she remembers how Joy’s hand looked in Dahyun’s and the jealousy needs an outlet. Even if it’s wrongly placed.

“No I won’t.” Sana looks straight into her best friend’s burning eyes. “You were absolutely obsessed with this girl - messing with her and staying late for no reason I can think of, that doesn’t involve feelings. But you refuse to tell me shit about what happened between you two, and now you want to push me on this? No fucking way.”

Sana knows it’s over the line. Knows she’s overreacting. But the prospect of confessing to Dahyun grows stronger every day, fuelled by the increasing suspicion that she’s already too late. That Joy got there first.

Nayeon glowers for a few seconds. Then deflates completely. And it’s a change so unexpected that it makes Sana do as well.

Nayeon sighs. “Sorry. I just need to get through this season, okay?”

“... Okay.” Sana nods. Opens her arms and feels how Nayeon crawls into them, hiding her face in Sana’s neck. It’s a completely different Nayeon, but Sana is used to her many sides by now. They’re all Nayeon. They’re all the parts that make up Sana’s best friend.

They stand for a few moments like that, before Nayeon draws back. Reaches up and removes an eyelash from Sana’s cheek. Sana blows it away with a quiet wish. A wish involving lips on lips and whispered confessions.

“We have to huddle for the pep talk, can you go get Joy and Dahyun?” Nayeon asks.

“... Do I have to?” Sana cringes. She’d rather not. The thought of interrupting whatever Joy and Dahyun are doing out in the hall, really isn’t appealing.

“Just do it?” Nayeon sighs.

Sana scrunches her nose. Then nods and heads for the door, a knot in her stomach. With her lip between her teeth she opens the door and sneaks outside, closing it after her. Looks to either side. There’s no-one there. But there’s sound.

“I mean, come on.”

Sana stops. That’s Joy’s voice. Low and insisting.

“Please not now.” Dahyun. And she sounds tired. “Just let it go.”

“Dahyun, this isn’t just some silly crush, it’s been months.”

Sana doesn’t want to hear anymore. It hurts. But she’s frozen on the spot, heart beating out of her chest, threatening to break.

“I know. I know, and she-” Dahyun stops talking.

Sana can’t breathe. She? … who _she_?

“Then what’s the problem? She likes you, right?” Joy’s voice grows in volume. “That’s what you said yesterday.”

“I said I _think_ she does.” Dahyun corrects, her voice lower than before.

Sana hates that she listens. Hates that her head is turned in the direction of the sound. They must be standing right around the corner. Less than ten feet away.

“How can she not? Everything you said makes sense.”

“Except for the fact that it doesn’t make sense.” Dahyun says. Her voice changes, and there’s shuffling. “Statistically, someone like her doesn’t fall for someone like me. It’s an anomaly, Joy. Me falling for her, that part I get. But she’s- she shouldn’t fall for me - it doesn’t make sense. I mean she’s Sana. She’s-.”

Dahyun stops dead, appearing from the corner. Her eyes are wide and fearful and she swallows visibly. Then Joy peeks around her, but Sana barely realizes she’s there. Barely notices her walk past them. Just hears the door to the changing room closing somewhere behind them. Sees how Dahyun’s cheeks an ears pink as she puts two and two together.

“I-” Dahyun starts. Clears her throat and swallows. “You heard?”

Sana hesitates. Tries to figure out if this is a dream without actually pinching herself.

“I didn’t mean to.” Sana whispers.

Dahyun nods. Seems as frozen as Sana was a minute ago. But Sana isn’t frozen. Quite the opposite. It feels like a current is running over her skin. As if months of pining and doubt are suddenly rushing over her all at once as the words play in her head again. The only ones that matter. The only ones she ever needed.

 

 _Me falling for her, that part I get_.

 

“Go out with me.”

The words leave Sana’s lips before she’s even sure is happening. All she knows is that Dahyun’s mouth falls slightly open, and her cheeks turn a brighter shade of red. Then Sana feels herself walk towards the younger girl ever so slowly.

“I- uh, I’m-” Dahyun splutters. Sana stops for a moment. Is she actually doing this?

_Me falling for her._

Yes. Yes, she is. Because enough is enough. Enough now.

“Dahyun.” Sana says, actually consciously choosing her words this time. Blood rushes in her ears, courage carried through her veins as she takes the last few steps to reach the girl she has liked for so long.

“Go out with me.”

Dahyun chuckles. It doesn’t seem to be a voluntary reaction. “Y-you. Y- me? Me?”

Sana nods. Can’t help but giggle. It’s absolutely ridiculous that she’s even here. After all her talk and convincing herself that it would pass, that it was unrequited and unimportant. But she is here. And she is asking.

Dahyun looks at her for the longest time. “I-I, uh ... Yes? I mean- I mean, yes. Yes.”

Sana beams. “Yeah?”

Dahyun seems a little surprised at her own words, frowning for a second. Then her lips split in a grin. She nods. But the next moment she backs away, as Sana had reached out, fingertips barely touching Dahyun’s soft cheek.

“What are-”

Sana frowns. Was it not obvious. “Well, I… was gonna kiss you?”

Dahyun chuckles again. Seems absolutely out of it - a complete contrast to her usual self.

“Oh.”

“Can I?” Sana asks. Isn’t really sure how she got to here, but doesn’t really want to know either. All that matters is that Dahyun nods. That she lets out a shivering sigh when Sana holds her face, and how she grins when Sana nuzzles her nose against the younger girl’s before kissing her.

She’s all that matters.

Dahyun.

 

“Sana, did y-”

Nayeon stops mid-sentence, but it’s enough to make Sana break the kiss. Dahyun’s hands are on her arms, and grip a little tighter as Sana looks back. As she finds her best friend’s eyes.

“I guess you did find her then.” Nayeon smirks.

“I did. So now it’s your move.” Sana just says. Strokes a thumb over Dahyun’s burning cheek while staring Nayeon down. Nayeon gestures at her in a way that makes Sana roll her eyes. But Nayeon also closes the door, letting them be alone in the hallway instead of calling them in.

 

…

 

There’s a line on the ceiling. Jeongyeon knows because she’s been staring at it ever since it got light enough to see it. On the other side of the room, Jihyo is sleeping soundly, looking tiny in the crumpled sheets. There’s an air of innocence and frailty about her when she sleeps that hardly anyone gets to see. Jeongyeon looks back up at the ceiling. Studies the line.

They lost the game against Kyunghee. It wasn’t that they hadn’t played well. Arin had pitched well, Jihyo had secured four runs over two innings and Mina had even scored them a homerun. But still. When the ninth inning was played, the score had read 16-15 in Kyunghee’s favor.

Jeongyeon reaches for the baseball on her nightstand and closes both hands around it. Runs her thumb over the red string. Nayeon had done the same, that night.

Maybe it could’ve been different. If Jeongyeon had just been fast enough to ask for her number or keep the conversation going. Or maybe if she had just talked to Nayeon after that night. Said hi? But she had tried. And Nayeon had ignored her. Right? If it had just been a matter of staying in the role as head cheerleader, then why hadn’t she talked to Jeongyeon afterwards? Why hadn’t she-.

Jeongyeon sighs. This was exactly what Momo had talked about wasn’t it?

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Jihyo’s voice is raspy and full of sleep. Jeongyeon turns her head on the pillow and sees Jihyo’s kind eyes open and observing.

“I’m not sure I’m over her.”

“Had you expected to be?” Jihyo asks, almost humored. She reaches for her glasses on the nightstand and puts them on despite the awkward angle. That’s a thing people don’t really get to see. Her glasses. Her messy hair in the morning.

“I hoped. It was like it got easier for a while. But after losing to Kyunghee, it just flared up? Made me scared that I’m going to screw it up for us. It’s my fault we’re cutting it so close anyways.”

Jihyo sits up in the bed and makes a bowl of her hands. Jeongyeon throws the ball across the room to her. She catches perfectly.

Jeongyeon stares back up at the ceiling.

“Have you thought about the possibility that maybe it’s not her that’s the problem?” Jihyo suggests.

“Have you _met_ her? She’s annoying as hell.”

“That’s not what I meant, Jeong. I’m sure she’s wonderful.”

“Shut.” Jeongyeon grumbles. Closes her eyes, knowing full well that Jihyo has more than just the baseball as a weapon.

“I’m saying maybe you’re projecting. If you play bad, you can blame her. You can just hate her, instead of dealing with your own issues.”

“Are you saying I suck?” Jeongyeon snorts.

“No, I’m saying there’s a possibility that we might lose this game tomorrow, no matter how well you play. How well any of us play. But if your brain is telling you it’s her fault it’s easier than facing the fact that none of us have played an optimal season. We lost Bona, we’re still building up Mirae to take over for Arin, and even I haven’t played my best. Your brain is ready to make this - missing the playoffs - your fault and Nayeon’s fault.”

Jeongyeon opens her eyes.

“So you don’t think I’m still into her?”

“Oh, I know you are,” Jihyo says dryly. “but I’m saying - if we lose tomorrow, it won’t be her fault and it won’t be yours. It’ll be on all of us. We’re a team, it’s not up to one person whether we win or lose.”

Jeongyeon rubs a hand over her face and looks up at the ceiling.

“There’s a line in the ceiling. Right there.” Jeongyeon points.

“There’s a line on your face too. Right here.” Jihyo points to the space between her own eyebrows.

“It’s permanent by now. Old age and that. You gotta remember I’m a senior starting next week.” Jeongyeon deepens the frown just to make Jihyo chuckle. Then she sits up, holding out a hand.

“Hag.” Jihyo snorts. Bounces the ball in her hand a few times and then softly throws it back to Jeongyeon, the older girl catching it effortlessly.

 

…

 

The changing room smells like deodorant and dirt, and Jeongyeon stares into the depths of her locker. It seems like hybris afterall, now that the morning has made way for midday, and the crowd roars overhead.

 

Jeongyeon sighs. Closes her locker and looks around. Finds Chaeyoung’s eyes on her. There’s nothing but trust in them, and Jeongyeon swallows.

“You got this.” Chaeyoung insists. “I know you do.”

“Thanks, Chaengie.” Jeongyeon says. Ruffles the girl’s short hair. Flattens it again and then looks at her. There’s a dimple in each cheek and her canines are prominent in a way that somehow makes her look even more childlike. But she’s not a kid. She’s their short-stop. The best one the team has seen in ten years.

“Hold on.” Jeongyeon opens her locker again, and digs into the bag for a sharpie.

“What are you-” Chaeyoung frowns.

“Here.” Jeongyeon says. But it’s not the sharpie she passes her. Instead she takes off her own cap and puts it on Chaeyoung’s head. It’s a symbol. Passing the torch. The cap hadn’t been Jeongyeon’s in the first place. Not originally. It was Sunmi who had given it to Jeongyeon before their final match against Kyunghee two years ago. And now it belongs to Chaeyoung.

“Write your name inside it. And when you’re older, give it to someone else. The one who shows the most promise.” Jeongyeon says. Chaeyoung looks confused but in awe. Then she takes off the cap. Looks inside it and reads.

Chaeyoung looks up with a grin. “You’re just trying to get me to crush on you again, now that I’m off the market.”

Jeongyeon laughs. Feels some of the pressure lift as she hands Chaeyoung the sharpie. She watches as the short-stop adds her own name and year to the others.

“Like this?” Chaeyoung turns the hat to let Jeongyeon see.

 

_86’ Kwon Boah. 89’ Kwon Yuri. 92’ Lee Sunmi. 96’ Yoo Jeongyeon. 99’ Son Chaeyoung._

 

Jeongyeon nods. Just like that.

“Listen, kid. I’m gonna go find another cap for myself, okay? Let Jihyo know I won’t be there for the pep-talk.”

“Are you ever anyways?” Jihyo’s voice makes Jeongyeon jump and she turns around.

“There’s more hats in the supply closet, right?”

“Should be a few.” Jihyo nods. “See you on the field in twenty?”

“It’s three minutes to the supply closet and back.”

“Yeah, but we both know you’re not coming back in here.” Jihyo says knowingly. “You always hated locker rooms.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. She can’t really deny that. So instead she bumps elbows with Jihyo and taps the shade of Chaeyoung’s cap before walking out of the changing room.

 

There’s a moment where she’s sure fate has just singled her out as the poster girl for tragicomic providence. Because the first thing she sees is a green cheerleader’s uniform. But the next moment she sees the rose colored hair framing the girl’s smiling face. Jeongyeon smiles back. She’s only met the girl once, but she’s nice. Chaeyoung calls her Rosie because of her hair, even though they share the same name. Jeongyeon gets it. Dating someone with the same name must be a little weird.

“You looking for Nayeon?” Chaeyoung - Rosie - asks.

“What? N-no. No, I’m just- going that way.” Jeongyeon feels her cheeks warm. Does everyone know?! Did Chaeyoung tell her? Or … No. It has to be the short-stop dishing on Jeongyeon’s personal turmoil, right? But it’s not turmoil anymore, right? Because this Nayeon thing is under control. It’s over. It… Okay, so maybe not _over_. But getting there. And definitely in control. It has to be.

“Okay.” Rosie seems quite unfazed and gives a little wave before heading in the opposite direction of where Jeongyeon is headed.

Jeongyeon bites her lip. Runs a hand through her hair and feels slightly naked without the hat. Maybe she should’ve waited to give it up until the end of the match?

 

…

 

Nayeon sighs. Hugs her arms tighter and closes her eyes. She has to go back soon. And honestly she isn’t even sure where she is or why she’s here. But it’s like Jeongyeon’s presence is all ubiquitous, the walls growing smaller around her.

She had really been sure that she was fine up until getting here. Even in the bus ride she had just focused on the plan. Don’t leave the changing room until the game. Keep your head down. Don’t look at her. Do it like that and then it’s okay. So what is she doing here? Somewhere inside the stadium hallways that she doesn’t even recognize. What way did she come from? What time is it?

She should get back. But everything feels like _her_ and it’s suffocating.

Nayeon opens her eyes and knocks the back of her head into the wall. Regrets it immediately. Stone walls are quite unforgiving. But pain or no pain, she has to get back. No matter how little she wants to face it all, she has to get back.

She’s the leader after all.

Rubbing a hand over her face, Nayeon turns and heads down the hallway, hopefully in the direction she came from. But which direction is the right one doesn’t matter. Because she’s barely around the corner before her shoulder hits something unexpected. Something - someone - she really should’ve seen coming. Not because she was unattentive, but merely because fate fucking would. She’s not even surprised at this point, that the only person she could possibly run into here, is Jeongyeon.

“Sorry.” Nayeon says automatically, moving around Jeongyeon. The shame burrows through her, and she can’t look her in the eyes. Instead she just tries to walk away. But Jeongyeon’s voice fills the hallway with anger and it makes Nayeon freeze.

“What? Not gonna try to ruin it today?”

Nayeon’s stomach turns and she feels like she might be sick just from the words. Had she really been this horrible to deserve such despise in the voice of the girl she-

“No.”

It’s all Nayeon can say.

“It’s the big game, you know.” Jeongyeon continues, her voice seething. “Don’t want to throw away your shot.”

Nayeon presses her lips together so hard that it hurts. Damn it. Damn it. She really fucking screwed it up. Yet she can’t speak. She’s used to being yelled at, but somehow the hatred in Jeongyeon’s voice hurts her more than anything else ever has. But Jeongyeon can’t know. How the hell can she know? It’s not like Nayeon ever got her shit together to say anything, right? Not like she ever fucking commits.

“Wow.” Jeongyeon sounds downright cold. “You really don’t give a shit, do you? Just had to get your spot in the playoffs, didn’t you? Well played, Im Nayeon. Well fucking played.”

Each word stabs through Nayeon.

“... It’s not like that.” Nayeon says quietly. It hurts too much that Jeongyeon thinks that. Hurts that she never gave Jeongyeon reason to believe anything else.

“Not like that?” Jeongyeon huffs. “Right. You know it’s people’s feelings you’re messing with here? _My_ feelings.”

Nayeon knows. God, she knows perfectly well how Jeongyeon feels, that’s not the goddamn problem.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeongyeon gives a single humorless laugh. “That’s great. Thank you. I appreciate it. You know what, fuck you. If I wasn’t over you before I definitely am now.”

Nayeon jolts, an unrecognizable desperation welling up inside her. Turns and finds Jeongyeon’s eyes. They’re dark and frightening, but Nayeon faces them unwavering.

“Good. Then maybe I can get over you too.”

Jeongyeon’s mouth falls slightly open, but then she narrows her eyes, lightning bolts in her eyes. “You’re not done? You’re not done playing around with me?”

Nayeon feels her organs trying to rearrange themselves inside her, but she doesn’t care. She finally said it and Jeongyeon doesn’t believe her. She can feel the tears threatening to break her and the way her throat closes up.

“I’m not playing.” She insists.

“Right. So what? You like me? Very likely.”

“Yes, likely!” Nayeon clenches her hands to fists, tears spilling from her eyes. “It’s very fucking likely, Yoo Jeongyeon.”

Jeongyeon seems completely stunned for a second, merely staring at the crying girl in front of her.

“I like you so much it’s almost embarrassing.” Nayeon hisses angrily. It’s the only way to keep from breaking completely. “But what the hell was I supposed to do? I didn’t think I did, and I knew you did so I stayed away. I didn’t want to invite anything I couldn’t live up to, and when I finally came to my senses and realized why you’ve been stuck in my head for months, I was so ashamed of myself! What the hell was I supposed to say? _Hey, sorry I ignored you for months but I like you now so please forgive me_?”

Nayeon’s chest rises fast and hard as the words manifest between them. She can’t control her tears. Can’t control her feelings as she remembers that night.

Jeongyeon doesn’t answer, and Nayeon can’t stop talking. The gate is broken and she is the flood.

“I stayed that night to find out if you liked me.” Nayeon can barely breathe as she forces herself to speak calmly. “Sana kept saying you did, and I couldn’t live with the possibility that I might actually be playing with your feelings. I thought you just hated me. But I kept getting lost in you instead of actually seeing how you reacted when I flirted. But I did see. I saw how you- I knew you liked me. I just didn’t know… I couldn’t get myself to believe. I just had to stay away after that, because I couldn’t make it worse. Even though I wanted to talk to you, I couldn’t. What if it just made you fall for me even more? It was easier just to make you hate me. I thought if I stayed away you’d just hate me. I’m used to that, it’s easy. But somehow all I wanted was to talk to you. I wanted the high it gave me to be near you. And then- every time I saw you I just hoped more and more that you’d confront me. I should’ve just fucking confessed I know that, but I chickened out every time. But all I wanted was… was you. For you to tell me to cut my shit out, and to be with me despite… but it’s just so useless there’s no way. I mean I don’t-”

Nayeon doesn’t even know where she’s going anymore, andher eyes hurt from crying and the shame threatens to break her. And Jeongyeon is just standing there, staring at her as if she’s a stranger.

And then something clicks. Nayeon sees it. Can see it so clearly, yet still doesn’t fathom what comes next. All she knows is that Jeongyeon’s lips are on hers. That her eyes flutter close at the complete surrender and that Jeongyeon’s hands hold her face, moving around to bury in Nayeon’s hair. The sound of a cap dropping onto the floor is drowned by the rush of blood in Nayeon’s ears, and she grasps desperately at Jeongyeon’s shirt, making fists around the fabric. Feels how Jeongyeon’s lips move desperately, flawlessly, with her own. Everything inside Nayeon is a storm. It’s all a big mess, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is the fact that Jeongyeon pulls back for air yet keeps her forehead pressed against Nayeon. Her eyes are still shut tight. Nayeon has never seen her this up close, Jeongyeon. But now she can see how her nose curves slightly downwards and how eyelashes are… are wet with tears.

“You’re crying.” Nayeon croaks, her throat dry.

“Shut up.” Jeongyeon whispers.

“... Make me.” Nayeon replies breathlessly. It’s just too obvious, and she knows it will work.

Jeongyeon chuckles and hiccups. “I swear to God.”

“Jeong,” Nayeon loosens her grip on Jeongyeon’s shirt, not really sure what reality is currently allowing her to wrap her arms around the girl’s waist, but she doesn’t care. “I’m serious. Kiss me.”

 

…

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Jihyo’s voice is threatening like a rumble of thunder and she looks Jeongyeon up and down when the older girl finally finds her way into the bullpen. It’s less than a minute until the game starts, and Jihyo is in full gear, the catcher’s helmet under her arm.

“Not now.” Jeongyeon says, trying not to draw attention to herself. This whole thing is bad enough as it is, and if Jihyo even gets as much as a hint of what’s just gone on - well, let’s just say Jeongyeon may be a little happy she’s no longer Jihyo’s roommate. That girl can get mad…

Jihyo frowns, her eyes shifting between Jeongyeon’s, until she seems to reach a conclusion. She nods. Then starts shuffling everyone out. Jeongyeon isn’t sure what Jihyo thinks is the reason she’s back so late, though she’s pretty sure it’s a wrong conclusion. Luckily for Jeongyeon, even if she will have to admit it at some point. Admit… admit what exactly? The lapse in self control that resulted in Jeongyeon losing her tongue down Nayeon’s throat or the fact that she’s still very much thinking about how soft Nayeon’s hair is

“Unnie.”

The voice is quiet, and the hand on her arm light and gentle. Jeongyeon turns her head. Mina is looking up at her, a somewhat repressed smile chubbing her cheeks.

“You have glitter on your face.” Mina says quietly, reaching up to wipe her thumb over Jeongyeon’s cheek. “Right there.”

Jeongyeon feels her cheeks go hot. She’s not unaware of the source of the glitter. Knows that Mina isn’t either But she doesn’t comment. Just walks out of the bullpen and onto first base.

 

They’re playing defense first, and the crowd roars as Jeongyeon steps out of the bullpen, walking towards the pitcher’s mound. As she walks, she checks the straps on the mitt but doesn’t put it on yet. The less time the batter has to adjust to Jeongyeon, the better. Just because they know her game, doesn’t mean they get to use it. Jeongyeon waits until the final moment. Then puts the mitt on her left hand and clenches the ball in the right. Looks only at Jihyo. Her goal. Her captain. No longer her roommate as of last week, but still, inevitably her best friend.

Jeongyeon shifts her grip to a fastball. Inhales deeply and shuts out sound. Then she raises her leg. And throws the ball.

 

“Strike one!”

 

The umpire’s voice is like music to Jeongyeon. The drop of a beat for her to follow. Jihyo beams behind the helmet and Jeongyeon catches the ball as it’s thrown to her again. The Konkuk batter tightens her hold and shifts her right foot a little. She’s prepared this time. Jeongyeon switches her grip and feels her hand strain. She looks up this time. Not because Nayeon calls attention to herself. But just because Jeongyeon knows she’s smirking, and just wants to confirm. And she’s right. In the sea of green uniforms and banners, there’s Nayeon, and she looks so damn pleased with herself that Jeongyeon can almost hear her thoughts. It’s the move they had practiced that night. Knuckleballs.

 

She could be so mad at Nayeon. She could’ve chosen to be furious with the girl for all the choices she had made. It wouldn’t have been completely unjustified. Yet somehow, the crack in Nayeon’s voice as she explained her shame and fear had made everything clear to Jeongyeon. She hadn’t known. Each step of the way Nayeon had acted on what she had known, and it had just coincidentally turned into a shit show. Of course the objectively best thing she could’ve done would have been to talk to Jeongyeon, and be honest. It’s just the thing about humans, that feelings cloud our judgement, and turn _should_ into _can’t_ . And she had also stood there in the hallway by the supply closet, with tears down her cheeks, baring her soul, despite that _can’t_. And Jeongyeon had snapped. Like any other decision with Nayeon, she hadn’t needed much thought. It’s all instinct when it comes to Nayeon, always has been. And all her instinct told her then - and still tells her now, as she sends the ball flying - is, that Nayeon is who she wants.

 

“Strike two!”

 

Jeongyeon grins. Looks around and catches Chaeyoung’s eye. The younger girl puts two fingers around the brim of the shade on her cap.

 

_‘86. ‘89. ‘92. ‘96 … ‘99._

 

The batter hits the third ball, but it doesn’t matter. It wasn’t like Jeongyeon had planned on striking them out before the game had even started. And it definitely doesn’t matter in the end. Because Jeongyeon plays effortlessly. Plays with complete focus on Jihyo and the team and the red string tying the white leather together. But it’s not just her who plays well. They all do. Jeongyeon isn’t sure if it’s her own confidence spurring the others on or if it’s the other way around.

Probably both.

 

…

 

The sun hides blissfully behind clouds and the humid summer air makes way for a needed breeze rushing over the stadium as the umpire calls the third out of the last inning.

Jeongyeon feels her knees give in, and then the distinct pain of her shins hitting the hard dirt. But she barely registers it. It’s more like the pain you’re inflicted in a dream or when sedated.

She played a complete game against Konkuk, and the scoreboard reads 15-13 in Hanyang’s favor. She could cry. She really might. Especially when arms wrap around her from all angles. She can smell Sejeong’s perfume and hear Irene’s voice by her right ear. Can feel how Chaeyoung attacks her from the front, and Arin soon after, both girls fitting in her arms somehow. Then there’s pressure against her back and she knows the three outfielders have joined what can now only be described as a pile.

It’s all loud screams and a mess of limbs. None of them care about the red dirt staining their white outfits. They won. They’re in the playoffs. They’re going to the playoffs this year, and Jeongyeon laughs when Jihyo, Seulgi, and Sejeong start chanting some kind of victory roar.

 

Jeongyeon can’t breathe, the air stuffy and full of dust in the center of the pile. But she doesn’t care. Even longs for the breathlessness as the pile after minutes of chaos and blissful joy, slowly breaks up, and the sounds of the crowd returns, rushing through her in tune with her hammering heart. But before she can get up, her arms are once more occupied. Not by Chaeyoung and Arin. But by Jihyo.

“Yoo Jeongyeon, you absolute shit.” Jihyo croaks, her entire weight on Jeongyeon, threatening to make the older girl fall backwards. She’s still wearing all the catcher’s gear with the exception of the helmet.

“You’re welcome.” Jeongyeon grins, patting her back comfortingly. Knows the relief has gotten to her best friend. Knows she’s hiding in Jeongyeon’s hair so as to not show the others that she’s crying.

“I have no clue what the hell happened, but thank you. Thank you.” Jihyo cries.

Jeongyeon hesitates. Then shrugs. “I kissed her.”

Jihyo’s body stiffens immediately, and the sob catches in her throat. Then she pulls back, her cheeks wet and a disbelief on her face. “Yoo Jeongyeon, you absolute _shit_.”

“You said that already,” Jeongyeon teases. “and you now owe 2000 won to the jar.”

“Fuck the jar.” Jihyo dries her cheeks, though this mostly result in red dirt mixing with the salty tears. Jeongyeon swats her hands away and rubs her face as clean as possible. Jihyo seems at wits end, opening and closing her mouth in some attempt to gather her thoughts.

“So… playoffs, captain?” Jeongyeon asks to distract her.

“Shut up, I hate you.” Jihyo gives a wet chuckle. “And we’re not done talking about this.”

“Didn’t count on it.”

Around them, the team has mostly gotten to their feet, waiting for Jihyo to lead them. But Jihyo herself seems to have forgotten this detail for a moment. So instead, it’s Jeongyeon who gets up, pulling their captain, their leader, to her feet. She looks slightly sheepish, but mostly like someone hit her with the baseball bat, though Jeongyeon is pretty sure that was just a dream she had once.

“Unnie?” Mina’s voice is almost inaudible in the chaos, but Jeongyeon looks around at her. Momo’s arms are around her neck, but Mina isn’t looking at either of them. In fact, she’s not looking at any of the players, but rather at the stands.

Jeongyeon’s stomach turns with anticipation as she follows Mina’s gaze, and finds Nayeon standing right behind the net, waiting patiently, front and center of her cheerleading squad. Jeongyeon bites her lip. She doesn’t want to leave her team, or break the mood in any other way. This whole thing with Nayeon has been such a huge part of their season, whether Jeongyeon wanted it to be or not. And now she’s facing it. Not just with Nayeon, but facing the entire team. Jeongyeon settles for sending her a grin. Nayeon grins back, but then the Sana girl whispers something in her ear and she whacks her arm, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks. Some of the other girls seem amused, but none of them leave. It’s a recognition of their leader, that they wait for her. But just as Jeongyeon is about to turn and gesture to her that they’ll meet up later, she feels a push in her back and hears Jihyo’s voice.

“Go.”

Jeongyeon tries to protest, but it’s no good. Jihyo pushes again, and this time hard enough to make Jeongyeon stumble slightly. She sends a scowl to her best friend before finally leaving the group. She can feel their eyes on her back, but it’s just a matter of time anyways. So why not just get it over with?

Nayeon walks too. Creates a little distance from the other cheerleaders.

“Good game, Yoo.” Nayeon says as they meet somewhere in the middle of the two crowds.

“Not for you, but thanks.” Jeongyeon gives a single nervous chuckle. It’s a little intimidating to have everyone watching them. Okay, very intimidating. Especially when all her teammates back on the pitcher’s mound are more than aware of who the green clad cheerleader is.

Nayeon steps closer. There’s a fat smirk on her face, and her eyes glisten as she speaks. “Guess I’m your muse, huh?”

Jeongyeon snorts. “You really like that pedestal, huh?”

“Oh yeah.” Nayeon just grins and reaches for Jeongyeon’s hand. “But really, you were so good.”

“Thanks, it was really just…  liberating.”

“I bet. Sorry I made it so hard on you.” Nayeon says genuinely. “I really- I’m so sorry. I was just.. I don’t really deserve any of this after what I put you through. You should hate me.”

Jeongyeon huffs and shakes her head.

“No I shouldn’t. Nothing good would come of that.” Squeezes Nayeon’s hand and twines their fingers. There’s chatter from some of the cheerleaders, and Jeongyeon clears her throat. Right now she wishes they were alone, but there’s no way they’ll get away with sneaking off now. So instead she just looks down at their hands and then finds Nayeon’s eyes. “But…  something good can come of this.”

“Yeah?” Nayeon looks at her, eyes searching Jeongyeon’s. “I mean if you-”

“Yeah.” Jeongyeon just confirms. There’s no reason to go into the whole thing again.

Nayeon smiles shakily. Jeongyeon looks past Nayeon for a second, feeling a very insistent pair of eyes on her. The Sana girl. She’s leaning her head on the pale girl’s shoulder and her arms are around her waist. But her expression is stern. Warning. Jeongyeon swallows. Clears her throat and looks back at Nayeon, just to find her eyes on Sana too. Then she looks at Jeongyeon.

“So, cowboy. Fight or flight?” Nayeon asks.

“I think it’s a little too late for flight.” Jeongyeon says. “And besides, if I’m gonna have any chance of bringing you to the victory dinner tonight, I’ll need your charms to convince them.”

“Oh? Asking me out _and_ complimenting me? That’s new.”

“Well, when you’re nice to people they tend to like you. It’s a concept, you know?” Jeongyeon says.

“Shut up.” Nayeon feigns offence and then changes manners. “But really, it’s okay if you just want to celebrate with your friends, I don’t want to intrude.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. “I want you there? Besides Chaeyoung is bringing Ro- Chae- My Chaeyoung is bringing your Chaeyoung.”

Nayeon laughs, and it chimes in Jeongyeon’s ears. “I get it. We’ve come to calling her Rosie too. But, I guess if she’s going and as long as your friends are cooler than you, I’m in.”

“You regretting getting with me already, Im?”

“Always.” Nayeon shrugs. Steps a little closer. Not that there’s much space to give. One more step and her green outfit will stain dirt red from Jeongyeon’s uniform. Her eyes search Jeongyeon’s, and Jeongyeon gives a slight nod. Then she kisses Jeongyeon. Wraps an arm around Jeongyeon’s neck and Jeongyeon holds her waist. Jeongyeon chuckles against Nayeon’s lips without really being sure why and Nayeon pulls away.

“You can’t laugh at my kiss.” Nayeon grumbles.

“I wasn’t.” Jeongyeon promises. “I really wasn’t. I just… I don’t know. So many people.”

“We can still flee.” Nayeon reaches up to fix Jeongyeon’s cap and then lowers her arm until her hand rests by Jeongyeon’s neck.

Jeongyeon almost accepts her proposition, but someone else talks before she can.

“So are you just gonna make us watch you two make out or do we get to meet her?”

The call comes from the cheerleaders, and the voice is easily recognized as Sana’s. Nayeon rolls her eyes and looks back at them.

“Fuck off, Minatozaki!” Nayeon calls.

“So that’s a no then?” Sana is already on her way over to them, the rest of the team more or less nervously following her.

“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand?” Nayeon asks. Her thumb strokes over the skin of Jeongyeon’s neck. It’s intoxicating.

“The part where I don’t get properly introduced.” Sana shrugs. Then looks at Jeongyeon. “Hi, I’m Sana.”

Jeongyeon nods at her. “Figured as much.”

“Oh, so she’s told about me?” Sana looks terribly pleased with herself.

“In passing.” Nayeon interrupts. “Only. In. Passing.”

Sana tuts and notes something, but Jeongyeon’s attention is on the footsteps behind her. Her own teammates have joined now as well, led by Momo. Somehow they’ve managed to now form a lump consisting on one half of the Konkuk cheerleaders and on the other side of Hanyang baseball players, with Nayeon and Jeongyeon as somewhat unprepared centres of attention. The only exception to this, is Chaeyoung. The shortstop doesn’t keep to the group behind Jeongyeon, instead joining Rosie, unabashedly wrapping her arms around the taller girl’s waist, earning her a kiss on the forehead.

“Is it introduction time, then?” Momo asks, not letting there be any ice to break. Jeongyeon loves her for that.

“Well, it’s not much of a secret, but sure. Guys, this is the biggest pain in my- ow.” Jeongyeon glowers at Nayeon. The older girl had whacked her over the arm, and is now pouting up at her.

Jeongyeon sighs, then turns back to her team. There’s a smug grin on each and every one of their faces, and Jeongyeon really regrets not running off with Nayeon when she had the chance.

“Fine. Team - Nayeon. Nayeon - team.” Jeongyeon gestures.

“Yeah, we know.” Momo says with a chuckle.

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Why did you ask then?”

“Because I have an infinity of barf-noises to pay you back for.” Momo says casually, but quickly has to pull herself together instead of turning into actual soft butter when Mina hugs her from behind. Jeongyeon really wants to clown them. But she does after all have to share a room with Momo and by extension Mina, for the next year. And if she wants to avoid getting teased majorly, she’ll have to behave. But… Jeongyeon frowns. Then turns to look at Jihyo. Just because it occurs to Jeongyeon that the otherwise first-foot-forwards girl hasn’t said a single word, which is very _very_ much unlike her. She’s usually front and center when it comes to mocking Jeongyeon for her incapabilities. Especially in the romantic department.

It seems there’s something completely wrong with Jihyo. The expression on her face is one that Jeongyeon has never before seen. Her lips are tightly pressed together and she’s really just standing there with her catcher’s gear in her arms, eyes looking repeatedly at the crowd of cheerleader’s and then away.

“You okay?” Jeongyeon asks quietly.

“What?” Jihyo croaks, a blush on her cheeks as she looks at Jeongyeon. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Jeongyeon asks. What the heck?

Jihyo nods. Looks into the crowd of cheerleaders again and then at the bullpen to their right. Next to Jeongyeon, Nayeon chuckles. Jeongyeon turns to her with a frown. She seems to know something Jeongyeon definitely doesn’t.

“That’s Jihyo, right?” Nayeon asks quietly.

“Yeah. Why?” Jeongyeon is completely lost.

Nayeon bites her lip with a twinkle in her eyes. Then she untangles herself from Jeongyeon - miraculously with only a minimum amount of dirt on her uniform - and wedges herself between Jeongyeon and Jihyo, as discreetly as possible.

“Jihyo?” Nayeon asks, her voice low enough that only Jihyo and Jeongyeon can hear.

Jihyo looks as lost as Jeongyeon feels. “I- uh, yes?”

“I’m gonna give you a little inside knowledge here.” Nayeon says, obviously trying her best to hide her amusement. “When you want to ask for her number later, the name you’ll need with it, is Tzuyu.”

Jeongyeon gapes and Jihyo’s catcher gear falls to the ground. The younger girl splutters and fumbles in her attempts to pick everything back up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jihyo says with as much composure as she can muster.

“Sure you do.” Nayeon presses to Jeongyeon’s utmost amusement. “The tall tan one with the puppy eyes. Her name is Tzuyu. Listen, just say it for me once, so I know you know how to pronounce it. Tzu-yu.”

“I- you- oh my god, shut up, what if she hears?!” Jihyo looks like she’s about to hit Nayeon. But instead she turns to look at Jeongyeon, a scowl accompanying her flaming cheeks. “I officially already hate your girlfriend.”

“Get in line.” Jeongyeon tries her best not to laugh too loudly.

“ _Hey_ !” Nayeon says with offence. “I’m _right_ here.”

“Oh? So you are. I hadn’t noticed.” Jeongyeon eggs her on.

“Right, yes, thank you.” Nayeon tuts. Then wraps her arms around her neck once more. “God, you’re such a catch, aren’t you?”

“Obviously you think so. If I had known you to be this clingy...” Jeongyeon teases, highly aware of the amount of eyes on them.

“Shut it, Yoo.” Nayeon grumbles. “Stupid, annoying, teasing-“

Jeongyeon just grins. Ignores Sana’s wolf whistle and the silly giggles of some of the younger girls as Jeongyeon kisses Nayeon.

It’s okay. They can giggle and tease if they want. Because Nayeon is an annoying, loud and insanely stubborn cheerleader with a dumb white bow and glittery makeup - and Jeongyeon loves all of it - loves all of Nayeon.

Even the bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- fin -


End file.
